The Legacy of Calenor
by Elmethea
Summary: Sequel to Heir of Calenor. Falenor is on the final drive of the Wild Ponies when he is forced into joining the Fellowship. He doesn't trust other Men and barely has confidence in Elves. The only ones he trusts and loves are a dying breed...
1. 1 The Mourner

Pineapple Fetish: Here it is! And of course I'm not going to tell you if Falenor dies, that's ruining the story!

**The Mourner**

Although it was morning and a golden light filled the rest of Rivendell, dark shadows covered the tomb. Aragorn had come here this morning, although he did not know why his footsteps had led him thence. Normally the tomb would have been empty, and so Aragorn was surprised to see a figure kneeling there.

The tomb was a marble statue of a man, lying asleep upon the cold marble. A small statue of a pony stood nearby, its long tangled mane flopping over into its eyes.

"It is Anduin the Valiant," Aragorn told the back of the kneeling man, coming to stand beside him. It was a young man, just come to manhood, with black wavy hair cut as a hobbit and dark blue eyes. The man did not turn to look at Aragorn, but the muscles around his mouth tightened and his blue eyes flashed.

"I know who he is," the stranger said angrily. Aragorn started back at the aggressive tone.

"The Council will soon begin," the ranger said softly, considering putting a hand on the stranger's shoulder and then deciding against it.

"I did not come for the Council," the young man responded coldly. "I came to mourn. In peace." Aragorn stood back, his grey eyes troubled, but he bowed and turned to walk down the corridor.

The stranger did not move, but remained kneeling at the tomb. His fingers traced the inscription there:

ANDUIN

ELF-FRIEND

HEIR OF CALENOR

Tentatively he stretched out a hand and placed it upon the cold stone ones. The fingers of Anduin were small and slender.

"It cannot be," the young man whispered to himself. Swiftly, with trembling hands, he slid his two rings from his fingers. One was a golden band, the seal of Calenor. The other was a strange ruby ring, the ring of Anduin. Both bands slipped easily onto the statue's fingers. "Impossible," the man said softly, looking at the ringed fingers.

For a time he sat in silence, even though his knees ached and he grew cold.

"Why _did_ you come here?" Elrond asked, stepping out from the shadows where he had been watching and placing his hands upon the strange young man's shoulders.

"To mourn," the stranger repeated.

"You would not have brought the Rhaw Nur if you came simply to mourn," Elrond persisted. Under his hands, the young man's shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Many still believe that I am driving the ponies to sell them," the young man said softly. "That is not true. They are dying out, uncle. They are dying and I cannot save them. The herd upon the slopes above is the last of the Wild Breed. I have collected them, gathering those who have escaped into the wild, buying back those I and my father sold, stealing those whose owners would not sell.

I am going to drive them North. I am going to try and breed them back and release them into the hills of Brethil."

The Elf lord sighed softly, for he knew that the fate of the Rhaw Nur and the line of Calenor were bound together and had been since the birth of Calenor.

"Why did you return the rings?" he asked, catching sight of the bands glimmering on the statue's fingers. The Elven sculptors had taken great care to ensure that the rings would fit on the sepulcher.

"The time of those rings is over," the man replied. "I am the last heir of Calenor. I will return to Brethil with all that remains of the Rhaw Nur."

"The evil spreading from the One Ring will find you there," Elrond warned him. "You seek to save the Rhaw Nur, but if the Ring returns to Sauron then they will die."

"Come to the Council," Elrond said after a pause.

"I did not come here for your Council," the man replied.

"But I asked you to, and you came to Rivendell when you knew it was being held."

"This was my last chance before I returned north."

"Come to the Council," Elrond repeated softly. "Please, thel'ion." (_sister-son_).


	2. 2 The Council of Elrond

**The Council of Elrond**

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old," Elrond said. He looked around half-circle of Men, Dwarves, and Elves. Gandalf was also there, as was Frodo the hobbit. At Elrond's right hand, slouched in his chair and trying to look aloof and uninterested, sat the strange man Aragorn had encountered that morning.

"You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands upon the drink of destruction. None can escape it." His grey eyes flickered to fall upon his nephew. "You will unite or you will fall." Aragorn turned his head slightly to look at the stranger who had Elrond's attention.

"Each race is bound to the fate - this one doom." The Elf lord gestured to the pedestal. "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo." Aragorn smiled encouragingly at the young hobbit, but his eyes flickered back to the stranger at Elrond's right hand.

The hobbit placed the Ring upon the stone table and stepped back, looking relieved of a great burden. At once the tension in the air increased as all present felt the pull of the Ring. Except the stranger. His blue eyes did not focus on the ring, as all other's did. Instead he really and truly seemed interested in the patterns that light made where it fell through the leaves.

"So it is true..." a voice whispered. It was Boromir, the Captain of Gondor. He was utterly entranced by the Ring. For the first time, the stranger's blue eyes blinked and came into focus on the present. They met Aragorn's blue-grey ones, then looked away sharply.

"The doom of Men," someone said softly.

"In a dream, I saw the eastern sky grow dark. But in the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying: 'Your doom is near at hand.' Isildur's bane is found." Boromir continued, rising impatiently and pacing around the semi-circle. Each pass brought him closer to the Ring.

At last the Captain stood before the Ring, his hand hovering above. Gandalf and Elrond exchanged worried looks. "Isildur's bane..." Boromir repeated, his voice a hushed whisper.

"Boromir!" Elrond warned, leaping to his feet. Gandalf stood, too, leaning heavily upon his staff.

"Ash nazg durbatuluk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatuluk ash burzum-ishi krimpatul," Gandalf chanted, and as he spoke the sky darkened and thunder rumbled in his words. Elrond, Legolas, and the other Elves present clutched their heads in pain. The stranger did so too, much to Aragorn's surprise.

"Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris!" Elrond said as Boromir, stunned, returned to his seat.

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be hear in every corner of the West!" Gandalf said sharply, his voice still rasping from the harsh tongue. At these words the stranger squirmed uncomfortably, glancing over his shoulder at the cliff-tops above.

"The Ring is altogether evil," Gandalf finished, glaring at Boromir.

"It is a gift. A gift to the foes of Mordor," Boromir argued, rising again. "Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!"

"You cannot wielded it!" Aragorn counteracted. "None of us can! The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master." Boromir turned and glared at Aragorn.

"And what would a ranger know of this matter?" At these words Legolas sprang up, and the stranger gripped the arms of his chair. His blue eyes darted from Aragorn to Elrond and the look in his eyes was one of betrayal.

"This is no mere ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance," Legolas said, proud in his anger.

"Aragorn?" Boromir asked, disbelieving. "This... is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," Legolas insisted. Aragorn saw Frodo's wide-eyed look as he gestured for the Elf-prince to sit.

"Havo dad, Legolas," (_Sit down, Legolas_) he said, concern in his eyes.

"Gondor has no king," Boromir said, softly but defiantly, "Gondor needs no king." The Captain turned and sat down among his own people. Aragorn caught the glance of the stranger, who had narrowed his blue eyes in a keen glare.

They debated long into the day, everyone saying something except for the stranger. As Elrond described how the ring must be destroyed, the stranger once again seemed caught up in the pattern the shadows of the leaves made or the flight of a passing eagle. Occasionally Aragorn saw him toss his head in a movement that seemed familiar to Aragorn, though he could not place it.

The stranger seemed unaware as an argument broke out around him. He had turned his head to face the breeze when Legolas sprang once more to his feet.

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!" The stranger blinked, coming from his reverie. He seemed startled, as though thinking that the Elf had addressed him and not Boromir.

From the opposite side of the circle Gimli sprang to his feet. "And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?" He asked indignantly. At once the other Elves rose to their feet and so too did the Dwarves.

"And if we fail, what then?" Boromir asked, standing as well. "What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of the Elf!" Gimli snarled. The stranger was watching this unfold with a slightly amused look, as though it was a show put on for him rather than and argument about the fate of Middle-Earth.

More arguments broke out as Gandalf rose to join in. Everyone there was on their feet, save Frodo and the strange Man. The hobbit stared at the Ring, he face both mesmerized and in pain. Slowly determination crossed his face and he stood.

"I will take it!" he announced, shouting over the argument. "I will take it!" The arguments died down as everyone turned to look at the little hobbit. Gandalf looked almost resigned and sorrowful as he turned away from the Gondorians.

"I will take the Ring to Mordor," Frodo repeated. "Though... I do not know the way."

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." Gandalf said softly, crossing to stand behind Frodo and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will," Aragorn swore kneeling before the halfling. "You have my sword."

"And you have my bow," Legolas added, walking to join them, his grey eyes filled with admiration and concern.

"And my axe," Gimli said, looking grimly at Legolas.

"You carry the fate of us all little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council, Gondor will see it done," Boromir said, slowly coming to stand at Frodo's back.

"Hey!" Sam said, clambering over a short wall the stand by Frodo. "Mister Frodo is not goin' anywhere without me!"

"No indeed," Elrond said, amused. "It is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not." The Elf lord turned as though to share a smile with the stranger at his right when Merry and Pippin also ran forward from behind two pillars.

"Wait, we're coming too!" Merry yelled. "You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!"

"Besides, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission... quest... thing," Pippin added. Aragorn tried to hide a smile behind his hand. Elrond waited for a moment, as though waiting for someone else to step forward. The Elf lord turned and looked at the stranger, who had still not budged from his seat.

"Thel'ion?" Elrond asked. Aragorn started. _"Elrond has a nephew?"_ he thought, surprised.

All the eyes of the council focused on the stranger, who resolutely refused to meet any of them. The breeze picked up again and the young man turned his face to meet it, his blue eyes closed.

"What of the Rhaw Nur?" he asked at length.

"My people will stable them," Elrond said. For the first time at the council, the stranger grew angry. His blue eyes snapped open and he glared distrustfully around.

"I will not have them stabled," he said, his voice low and dangerous. Aragorn felt his hand twitch, unconsciously desiring to pull out his sword.

"Then I will set them free in my lands and put a watch over them," Elrond offered, his voice soft and reassuring. The stranger considered this for a moment then nodded. He stood and slowly made his way to the other nine. He walked past Aragorn, sparing him only a disdainful glance, and went to stand next to Boromir.

"Ten companions... so be it! You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!" Elrond announced.

"Great!" Pippin said. "Where are we going?" Merry groaned softly and Frodo shook his head.


	3. 3 Genealogies

**Genealogies**

"Who is he?" Gandalf asked. The wizard had come to Elrond's room that night, curious as to their final companion.

"His name is Falenor," Elrond said, running his hand along his bookshelves. "He is the only son of Fanduin the Second and... Lathien."

"Lathien?" Gandalf asked, his bushy grey eyebrows rising in surprise. "Your wife's sister?"

"Yes, Falenor is my nephew," Elrond admitted. "And the heir of Calenor. In him are united the bloods of Tuor, Gilgalad, Elendil, and Galadriel. Not to mention the legends regarding his great-grandmother's blood."

"This is interesting indeed," Gandalf said at last.

"You always were one to make an understatement," Elrond laughed. His hand settled on a scroll and Elrond pulled it from it's shelf. He set it on a table and unrolled it as the wizard stepped closer to see.

"The line of Calenor," Gandalf read. Written on the parchment was a short, but complete, genealogy.

Tuor

Almelui Gilgalad

: |

Arphen == Gaewyn

Calenor the Great

Fanduin

Alenor the Blind == Ilia Ephrin Ethrin

_|_ Elendil

| | :

Anduin the Valiant Ilayilia == Kalkas

Falkas Galadriel == Celeborn

4 children Fanduin II == Lathien Celebrien == Elrond

Falenor

"What are the legends regarding Ilayilia's blood?" Gandalf asked, pointing to her name on the chart.

"You have never heard the story of Ilayilia?" Elrond asked, surprised. When the Istar shook his head the Elf explained, "Suffice it to say, for now, that she was the beloved of a dragon named Glarlauk. When she was mortally wounded the dragon saved her using the blood of her horse; a stallion half mearas and half Rhaw Nur."

"What of these others?" Gandalf asked, gesturing to Ephrin, Ethrin, and the 4 children of Falkas.

"Dead," Elrond said shortly. "Before they reached manhood or before they bore children. Falenor is the last, the very last of his line. He is a peredhel, half-elven. But there is some of his great-grandmother's blood in him yet."

"How do you mean?"

"Sometimes he behaves more as a horse than as a man," Elrond explained. "He can be difficult, stubborn, and defiant. But he can also be loyal, brave, and fierce. And wild, always wild."


	4. 4 No, Nay, Never, No More

A/N: The song is an adaptation of "The Wild Rover ", a traditional folk song.

Pineapple Fetish and roxasrules: The key to getting these chapters up ridiculously fast is already having them written. I only put up a few at a time so as not to overwhelm you. You two. The two of you who read my stories. You... two. God, I love you guys!

**No, Nay, Never, No More**

Aragorn had climbed to the top of the cliffs that overlooked Rivendell. Nellas, the Elf-maiden, had told him a great herd of ponies was grazing there. Normally, Aragorn would hardly trust Nellas for she had a great love of tricks and laughter like all of the Green-Elves. But something in Nellas's eyes had been different, in them the ranger saw not laughter, but rather admiration. She _admired_ the horses.

The starlight was bright, so bright that Aragorn could see as though it were day. Everything was coated in silver and blue, for moonlight drains the world of the fire of day. As Aragorn stepped from the cliff's steep path he saw them.

A great herd of ponies, at least a hundred all told, ranging in color from black to fiery red to white. The silent night was filled with the sound of their soft breathing, their hushed neighs, and their muffled stampings.

All of them had long, shaggy manes and short, sturdy legs. They were wild ponies, and Aragorn could see that they had been bred for colder climates.

One of them, a mare, stood nearer to Aragorn than the others. She had a golden coat that gleamed softly in the starlight and her mane and tail were as white as daisy petals. A bright white star, nearly hidden beneath her forelock, was in the middle of her forehead. Soft brown eyes peered out at Aragorn from beneath her thick mane.

Those eyes... sparrows taking flight, acorns in the autumn, a fawn learning to walk, dark rich soil being plowed.

Aragorn blinked. Never had he seen so much intelligence in the eyes of any animal. The mare looked calmly back at him, expectant. Slowly the ranger extended his hand before him. The mare looked at him patiently. He took a tentative step forward, one more and his hand would be resting on that bright star...

"What are you doing?" an angry voice interrupted him. Abruptly Aragorn turned and dropped his hand. Whickers greeted this newcomer, the blue-eyed stranger Elrond had called his thel'ion.

"Are these your ponies?" Aragorn asked. The stranger was holding a blanket and glaring at the ranger suspiciously.

"They don't belong to anyone," he replied. "But I am their drover."

"Are they for sale?" Aragorn inquired.

"No," came the short answer. "Especially not that one." The stranger crossed and went to stand by the golden mare's head. She gave him an affectionate nuzzle and sniffed his pocket for treats. The young man did not stop her as she burrowed her nose into his coat pocket and licked up sugar cubes.

"And the other ones bite," the man added, continuing to glare at Aragorn. The other ponies had come closer, softly whinnying for treats. They surrounded the young man, rubbing up against him as though he were a long lost foal.

"We leave early in the morning," Aragorn said, watching the ponies carefully in case they really did bite. "You should get some sleep."

"I don't sleep inside," the boy replied scornfully. "But I will be ready come morning." Aragorn bowed and turned to descend the slope.

"_You are too harsh on him, Falenor," _the mare scolded in the horse-tongue. It is a language no Man can understand, and the Elves can barely grasp. But Falenor had been raised in the footsteps of Calenor and when he spoke in the Sindarin tongue the horses and ponies understood. _"He is a good man. I saw it in his heart."_

"Ho in Dunedain," (_He is of the Dunedain_) Falenor said. "Caristas man carho manka gul ai im?" (_Do you know what he would do if he knew who I am?_)

"_Maybe he would not be as quick to judge as you."_

"Manka amin estel inhon, amin alalag pain in idhrinn," (_If I believed that, I would not have been running all these years_) he sighed. The mare knelt and lay upon the ground. Falenor sat beside her and leaned back against her side.

"_Your father ran, too,"_ the mare said softly. _"Maybe the time has come to stop running, my little one."_

"Man caristas carim?" (_What do you think I am doing?_)

"_A bridle is not such a bad thing if the rider is gentle._"

"Nan'ennas sal nag," (_But there is still the bit_) Falenor argued, pulling the blanket over himself and gazing up at the stars. "Penrodo, lle alui hamma lath." (_Besides, you've never worn a bridle_). The mare laughed softly and laid her head down in the man's lap.

"_Sleep well, my drover."_

Nellas and her sister Caleyn listened to the silent exchange. They were Green-Elves, and had been Lathien's handmaidens before she went beyond the Sea. They had acted as nursemaids and playmates for Falenor when he was still a child. The sisters sat in the trees and sang softly, as they had done so many times before for Falenor and his mother.

"I've been a wild drover for many a year

I spent all my money on whiskey and beer,

And now I'm returning with gold in great store

And I never will play the wild drover no more.

And it's no, nay, never,

No nay never no more,

Will I play the wild drover

No never no more.

I went to an ale-house I used to frequent

And I told the landlady my money was spent.

I asked her for credit, she answered me, "Nay

Such custom as yours I could have any day."

And it's no, nay, never,

No nay never no more,

Will I play the wild drover

No never no more.

I took from my pocket ten sovereigns bright

The landlady's eyes opened wide with delight.

She said, "I have whiskey and wines of the best

And the words that spoke sure were only in jest."

And it's no, nay, never,

No nay never no more,

Will I play the wild drover

No never no more.

I'll go home to my parents, confess what I've done

And I'll ask them to pardon their prodigal son.

And if they forgive me as ofttimes before

Sure I never will play the wild drover no more.

And it's no, nay, never,

No nay never no more,

Will I play the wild drover

No never no more."

The Elf-maids finished singing and it seemed that Falenor had fallen asleep when suddenly he called out, "I don't drink!" The Green-Elves giggled and leapt away through the trees and back down into Rivendell.


	5. 5 The Departure of the Fellowship

A/N: All the blessings in this chapter are traditional Irish blessings.

**The Departure of the Fellowship**

Falenor woke to someone gently pushing him. He opened his eyes to the dusky half-light of dawn and saw the golden mare butt him with her head once more.

"_Wake up little drover," _she told him, breathing softly in his face. _"It is morning. You said you would be ready."_

"They will not leave for a while yet," Falenor grumbled, turning over on his side and shutting his eyes. The mare did not understand his words, but she could tell what his actions meant. She stood up suddenly and sent the human tumbling to the ground.

"Okay, okay!" Falenor said, sitting up with a yawn. "I'm awake!" The mare nudged him again until he stood up and folded his blanket.

Down in the valley, Elrond was waiting for Falenor. He gave the young man warm bread that had melted cheese spread over it and a flask of cold cider.

"Have you packed?" Elrond asked him. Falenor shook his head.

"I never travel with anything."

"Do you at least have weapons?" Elrond sighed. He should have known Falenor would not think to pack. Horses don't understand carrying one's belongings with them. Falenor bit into the bread as he patted the dagger he wore at his side. He also had two light swords strapped to his back.

"Will you take Elenath?" Elrond asked. Falenor froze and lowered the cider he had been about to drink.

"Anduin's sword?" he clarified. Elrond nodded, but Falenor shook his head. "I am a knife fighter. Let Men have their swords, Elves have their bows, and as for a thief, give him a knife."

Elrond looked Falenor over. The young peredhel wore a dark brown shirt with loose sleeves, designed to cover up the knives he hid in them. He also wore a leather vest, well worn and scratched, and over this he wore his coat. The coat was black and long and when the wind caught its folds it would billow out like a cloak. Falenor was ridiculously proud of his coat. He also wore traveling boots in which, Elrond knew, were more knives.

"Are you taking Eledhwen?" Elrond asked quietly. Falenor looked down at the cobblestones of the floor and shook his head.

"Will you look after her?" he asked his uncle. "You know how much she means to me."

"Of course," Elrond said. "I know that you love her." As they stood in silence for a little while the rest of the Fellowship drifted into the courtyard. Elrond pressed his lips to Falenor's forehead and sent him to stand with the rest of them, beneath a great stone archway. For a moment Falenor hesitated, for he wanted to stand next to the pony that the little hobbit held, but Aragorn was there. Finally he turned and went to stand next to Legolas and Boromir.

"The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On you who travel with him no oath nor bond is laid, to go further than you will." Falenor could feel the eyes of the dwarf and the Gondorian upon him, but he ignored their gazes. He instead watched the leaves that fluttered to the earth, pretending these interested him more than anything else occurring.

"Farewell. Hold to your purpose. May the blessings of Elves and Men and all free folk go with you," Elrond finished, spreading his arms. Legolas, Aragorn, and Falenor placed their hands over their hearts and bowed.

_Give me a gentle herd who will love me for what I am,_

_And keep ever burning before me vagrant steps the kindly light of hope..._

_And though I come not within sight of the field of my dreams,_

_teach me to be thankful for life,_

_And for time's olden memories that are good and sweet._

_And may evening's twilight find me gentle still._

Falenor recited the blessings Eledhwen had taught him to himself as the Fellowship turned and walked out of Rivendell as the sun's rays finally pierced the valley.

That was not the only farewell the Fellowship had. As they crested the cliff and came into a wide plain, the herd of ponies came forward to say their own farewells. Falenor had been walking in the rear with Aragorn in front of him. Each pony in turn came up and nuzzled against the drover, neighing their own soft farewells.

There were so many, and each determined to give their own individual farewell, that Falenor was separated from the rest of the Fellowship by them.

"What is taking so long?" Boromir asked, turning to look back. When he saw the ponies, the Man's mouth gaped opened slightly. "Sweet Eru..."

"Nin gwedir, nin gwathel," (_My brothers, my sisters_) Falenor said softly, extending his hands and lightly petting the coats of the ponies. "Ethelithon." (_I will come back_). At his words the herd parted slightly and the golden mare came through to him.

"_Goodbye, my little drover,"_ she neighed softly. Across the field, Falenor saw Legolas's eyes widen; the Elf knew that the pony was speaking but he couldn't make out her words.

"Ah im, erin veleth lin?" (_And I, do I have your love?_) Falenor asked her, placing a hand upon her cheek.

"_I will always love my foster-foal," _the mare whickered. _"Go now. Let your days be filled with light, may the road rise up to meet you..."_

"Ah lothron lin fea alui rusva," (_And may your spirit never be broken_) Falenor finished.


	6. 6 StoryTelling

**Story-Telling**

"Mr. Legolas says you can speak to horses," Sam said hesitantly. He was not sure of this stranger who had seemed so unwilling to volunteer for the quest.

"Hmm?" the Man asked, absent-mindedly patting Bill's whither.

"Is it true that you can talk to horses?"

"Everything has a voice, Master Gamgee," the man said softly. "The wind, the trees, and yes, horses too. The trick is simply understanding what they are telling you."

"Can you teach me?" Sam asked. For the first time a smile flashed across the stranger's face.

"It isn't something I can ever teach fully," the Man said, and gave the hobbit a crooked smile. "I can teach you how to understand some things they say, but I can't teach you to speak with them. To sing with them."

"What is this witch-craft you speak of?" Boromir mumbled from behind Bill. The Man's blue eyes flashed but Legolas cut him off.

"Elven magic allows us to speak with Nature, to commune with Eru," the Elf explained. "The Peredhel can do so, too."

"Half-Elven?" Aragorn asked, understanding crossing his face.

"I can speak with horses because I am Calenor's heir," the peredhel spoke coldly. "I can understand the winds because they are the four ponies. Not because I am half-Elven."

"The winds are... ponies?" Pippin asked in the awkward silence. As usual, the hobbit was completely oblivious. "How does that work?" Gandalf sighed an sat upon a large rock.

"If we start the story of the Wind Ponies now," Gandalf said. "We had all better rest while we do so." Pippin sat down where he was and looked expectantly at the young man, who looked nervous.

"Gandalf, it has been over ten years since I heard this story told..."

"Then it is time it was told again," the wizard insisted as the rest of the Fellowship took their seats.

"_I will help you,"_ Bill offered.

"Hanno lle, nin gwedir," (_Thank you, my brother_) he replied.

"He's speaking to Bill," Sam whispered into Frodo's ear. The peredhel was a great story teller, when he described the winds' rushing the hobbits could almost hear them: the wailing of the North wind and the rustle of the East wind, the rumble of the West and the screeching of the South.

When he had finished the hobbits clapped and even Gandalf smiled.

A/N: If you are coming into this story without having read Heir of Calenor and are curious about the Story of the Wind Ponies, it is located in HOC, Chapter 32.


	7. 7 The Horse Thief

**The Horse Thief**

They stopped for the night in an abandoned village. Merry and Pippin hung on the peredhel's arms begging for another story as Sam began to cook supper.

"Here's a story I would like to hear," Boromir said darkly. "Who are you?" The camp went silent suddenly as all turned to listen. Of the Fellowship only Gandalf knew the about the drover.

"My name is Falenor," he said at last. "That's all you need to know."

"On the contrary," the Gondorian argued. "If we are going to Mount Doom together I think we have a right to know more than that!" Falenor merely snorted in response and tossed his head so that his hair flopped out of his eyes.

"I don't think that Falenor believes we will make it to Mount Doom," Gandalf said, filling his pipe with tobacco.

"Not all together and not all in one piece," Falenor said.

"And who are you to know of such things?" Boromir pressed.

"Falenor is a horse thief," Gandalf said, lighting his pipe. The entire Fellowship save for the wizard turned disbelieving eyes on Falenor.

"A horse thief?" Boromir said, shocked. "Lord Elrond goes to such lengths to get a horse thief into the Fellowship?"

"Yes, Lord Elrond did!" Legolas said, leaping to Falenor's defense.

"He is more likely to steal our swords from our scabbards than to use that dagger in our aid!" Boromir insisted. Frodo's hand flew to check the Ring, but he found it safe on its chain.

"Horse thief," Falenor said quietly. "Not sword thief. Horse thief. And don't worry about Bill, I only steal full-bloods."

"Full-blooded what?" Merry asked.

"Rhaw Nur," Falenor answered. "The wild breed descended from Uricon the Merka Fea. Bill is a half-breed."

"What's Uricon?" Pippin inquired.

"That is an even longer story than the Wind Ponies," Falenor said. "Ask me some other time. Boromir wants to accuse me of something right now."

"I ask only for what is necessary to defend my people," the Gondorian captain insisted.

"So do I." Silence hung thick in the air as Boromir and Falenor regarded each other. Finally the captain inclined his head slightly to Falenor as they reached some unspoken understanding.

"Well, stealing's not so bad," Pippin piped up from where he sat. "Merry and I have stolen loads of times!"

"Pippin!" Merry groaned as he elbowed his cousin's side.

"What do you steal?" Falenor asked, turning to look at the hobbits with his crooked smile tugging at his lips.

"Well, Farmer Maggot's crops mostly," Pippin said lifting his hand and counting off. "Carrots, cabbages, mushrooms, and something else..."

"Potatoes," Frodo offered with a smile, recalling that day.

"Do you steal, too, Master Frodo?" Falenor said with a smile. Frodo blushed deeply and tried to babble out a negative.

"Mister Frodo'd never steal a thing!" Sam rushed to his defense. "He's a good respectable hobbit!"

"Well, I don't really classify what I do as stealing, either," Falenor said. "The Rhaw Nur belong with me. I merely make a profit off this fact."

"You could try not selling them," Gandalf offered. "Rather than letting unsuspecting people buy ponies that are trained to break out of their stalls and return to you." Falenor shrugged as Merry and Pippin looked at him in awe. The drover's eyes met Aragorn's and stayed there.

"Well?" Falenor asked.

"Well what?" Aragorn replied, confused.

"Aren't you going to arrest me?"

"What for?"

"Stealing." Aragorn considered for a moment. It was not a ranger's business to arrest thieves, though most would. He remembered almost ten years ago when Halbarad had picked up a horse thief...

"That was you father, wasn't it?" Aragorn asked, remembering the jet black hair and blue eyes of the thief so many years ago. Falenor looked almost exactly like him, just a little slimmer and without the scruffy beard.

"He died in prison," Falenor said. "Being rusva, broken, killed him." The camp was silent again, but by now Sam had lit a fire and its crackling filled the air.

"If people are stupid enough to let the same man swindle them over and over again," Aragorn said at last. "Then they deserve to be cheated." At this Merry and Pippin cheered and Gimli breathed a sigh of relief.

"Are you happy, Master Dwarf?" Legolas asked.

"It would make things very awkward if we went around arresting each other," Gimli said, and the entire Fellowship laughed, even Falenor.

When night had truly fallen and supper had ended, Gandalf sat up taking the first watch. Falenor was also awake, and he stoked the fire with a stick.

"Didn't I sell you a pony?" the drover asked at last. The wizard nodded and his eyes twinkled. "A bay, thirteen hands, sock on left hind foot, white blaze," Falenor recited, remembering. "Where is he now?"

"I'm afraid I had to trade him."

"Was there something wrong with him?" Falenor asked, less a businessman concerned about his product than as a father worried about his son.

"No, but I needed a horse," Gandalf assured him. This answer seemed to satisfy Falenor and he gave the embers one last stir before he looked up again.

"How did you know I was a horse thief?"

"When you have lived three hundred years," the wizard chuckled. "You begin to recognize these things. As soon as you knew I was a wizard, you directed me away from a perfectly good horse and urged me to buy another."

"I don't want my more intelligent customers calling for my blood," Falenor admitted. "Usually I'm well away by the third night, which is when the ponies are trained to escaped, but someone might come along someday and figure me out. The pony you were looking at first, Merilin, was trained to escaped and return to me. The pony I sold you, Ferling, was just a normal pony."

"Very clever," Gandalf complimented.

"My father designed it, not me," Falenor said with a shrug. "Although the recent string of thefts in Bree and the surrounding countryside was all me. I only took the purebred Rhaw Nur."

"A little obsessed with breeding, are we?"

"I love all horses," Falenor said softly. "But to coax the pure line of the Merka Fea back into flame from the ashes," he shrugged. "I needed ones with at least three-quarters pure blood."


	8. 8 The Rings Goes South

**The Ring Goes South**

The next day they stopped for lunch on a foothill of the mountains. Sam cooked sausages over the fire along with mushrooms Falenor had found.

"It's better to find what food you can than to just rely on the packs," the drover said when he brought back a blanket full of the fungi. Aragorn had insisted on looking over the mushrooms, but he was soon satisfied that they were not poisonous.

Boromir had set down his shield and grinned to Merry and Pippin, gesturing for the hobbits to join him. He taught them a few simple sword moves, the basic blocks and parries, before he engaged them in a mock battle.

"Two, one, five. Good," Boromir said with each clash of his sword on Pippins. "Very good," he repeated as Pippin blocked him each time.

"Move your feet," Aragorn called from where he sat on a rock, smoking his pipe.

"_He does that a lot," _Bill told Falenor.

"Carman?" (_Does what?_) Falenor asked the pony.

"_Breathes his fire-stick." _Falenor smiled at the pony's word for the pipe. _"You don't do that, do you?" _Bill asked him, sniffing his cloak suspiciously.

"U. Ha echdi nin sui lhaew sui lle, tithen gwedir" (_No. It makes me as sick as it makes you, little brother_). Falenor dug in his pocket and produced a carrot, which he fed to the pony. A soft breeze whispered past and Falenor froze, clutching the carrot in his hand. Bill nickered and mouthed the vegetable, but the drover paid him no attention. Suddenly he dropped the carrot and ran to Legolas.

"Is something wrong?" the Elf asked, snatching up his bow.

"The South wind," Falenor said. "Something is coming..." Legolas climbed lightly over the rocks and looked southward. Sam had heard the exchange and he straightened to look at the Elf. A strange cloud had appeared in the south.

"What is that?" the hobbit asked no one in particular.

"Nothing, it's just a whiff of cloud," Gimli said, glancing toward the Elf.

"It's moving fast... against the wind," Boromir stood, a hand on Merry and Pippin's shoulders.

"It is no cloud," Falenor said. "The wind knew that..."

"Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas yelled.

"Hide!" Aragorn shouted. Sam hastily put out the fire using a pan of water he had been about to boil as the rest of the Fellowship ran around gathering up discarded packs and weapons.

"Hurry!" Boromir urged Merry and Pippin, tossing first one and then the other into the shelter of a bush. Soon the camp looked deserted: Aragorn, Frodo, Sam, and Gandalf hiding under rocks, Boromir, Merry, Pippin, Gimli, and Legolas sheltering under the bushes. Falenor did not take cover, though.

"Falenor, here!" Legolas hissed, gesturing for the drover to hide. But Falenor had run to Bill and was whispering words in Sindarin to the pony.

"Tolo tithen gwedir, tolo!" (_Come, little brother, come!_) But Bill was slow to turn and follow. In desperation, Falenor cried out in the common tongue: "SUGAR!" Bill's ears perked up and he followed the drover at a trot. The two disappeared behind a rocky outcrop.

In a sudden burst of darkness a flock of black birds rushed overhead, blotting out the noontide sun. They circled the hill once, then twice, and then wheeled and flew away.

Slowly the Fellowship emerged from their hiding places. Falenor came out from behind the stones, leading Bill who eagerly followed the drover's open hand of sugar.

"You're welcome," Falenor said as Aragorn and Legolas turned to look at him.

"We do owe you our thanks for warning us," Aragorn admitted.

"I was referring to hiding your pony," Falenor said. "You spoil him." Bill neighed softly, tossing his mane. Aragorn suddenly realized why the movement Falenor did with his head seemed familiar: he was copying the way a horse shakes out its mane.

"Uma, hocar," (_Yes, he does_) Falenor told the pony. "Lle tolir lle treneri." (_You should come when you are told_). "I hid him behind the rocks, beneath the trees there. They did not see him."

"Spies of Saruman!" Gandalf said, interrupting them. "The passage South is being watched. We must take the Pass of Caradhras." The wizard turned and looked up at the snowy mountain behind them.

Legolas looked at Falenor as the drover handed Bill's lead rope to Sam.

"How did you know the Crebain were coming?" the Elf asked him.

"The wind told me."

"You told the hobbits that that was a children's tale," Legolas reminded him.

"Well, either the South wind told me," Falenor said, "or I'm crazy. I prefer to think that I am not crazy, even if I am."


	9. 9 In Which the Winds Play

**In Which the Winds Play**

Snow had blanketed the mountains, forcing them to wade through the knee deep cold. Legolas, however, stepped lightly over the snow and Falenor barely sank into it. He walked before Boromir, but behind Bill. He was watching the pony's gait carefully.

"He has a loose shoe," the drover murmured, but his thoughts were interrupted by a small grunt. Falenor turned and saw that Frodo had slipped and fallen, rolling through the snow. In front of him, Boromir stooped to pick up the Ring, which had fallen from the hobbit.

"Boromir," Aragorn said quietly. Falenor could not see the Gondorian's face, but the look of fear on Frodo's face showed him enough.

"It is a strange fate we should suffer so much fear and doubt... over so small a thing," Boromir said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Such a little thing." The Captain reached out a gloved hand to touch it, but Falenor had come up behind him and he grabbed Boromir's hand.

"Boromir!" Aragorn shouted. "Give the Ring back to Frodo." Boromir turned and looked at Falenor, blinking. In his eyes the drover saw the traces of greed, desire, and sadness. Falenor could not understand the pull the Ring had on others, he himself felt only fear and despisement when he looked at that unadorned band. The drover released Boromir's hand and nodded down the slope where Aragorn and Frodo stood waiting.

"As you wish," Boromir said, taking the Ring back and holding it out to Frodo. The hobbit snatched it away from the Man. "I care not..." Boromir jokingly tousled Frodo's hair and then turned to resume climbing. He passed Falenor and clapped a hand on the peredhel's shoulder before going on. Falenor watched Aragorn until he released his grip on his sword.

"Come Frodo," Falenor said, gesturing to the hobbit. Frodo looked up at Aragorn who nodded. The hobbit pushed through the snow and came to stand in front of Falenor. The drover placed a light hand on his shoulder.

"Do you mind?" Falenor asked. Frodo shook his head and allowed the peredhel to pick him up and carry him through the snow. Falenor was surprisingly strong, despite his small frame, and the hobbit felt secure in his arms. Where Frodo had been frightened by Boromir's touch, he was soothed by Falenor's. When he was this close to the drover he could smell horses, sweet grass, and a windswept plain.

"Do you hear that Frodo?" Falenor asked. "It is the North wind. She is singing to the West wind. If we are unlucky they will come together in a storm."

"Can you stop them?" the hobbit asked.

"Why should I?" Falenor asked his voice actually confused, to Frodo's dismay. "They are like children, they want to play."

"But we'll be caught between them!" Frodo tried to explain. Falenor wrinkled his brow in confusion but he turned his head into the wind.

"She'll bring no snow," Falenor said at last. "I can tell because she is sad. And when she brings no snow, the West wind cannot create a blizzard."

Suddenly a cry rang out from behind them. In a gust of wind, Aragorn had lost his footing and now he slid towards a steep drop-off. Falenor dropped Frodo in the snow and ran, leaping across the snow in great bounds and catching the ranger's arm just before he fell. Snow, disturbed by the man's tumble, dropped over the edge into black chasm beneath.

"Hold on!" Falenor said through gritted teeth. Slowly he tried to lift Aragorn from the edge, but his feet slipped and he dared go no further. Aragorn stared up, frightened, into Falenor's eyes.

The drover's blue eyes were terrified, one wrong move would send both him and Aragorn tumbling downwards. Suddenly a hand shot out and grabbed Aragorn's other arm.

Together Falenor and Legolas pulled Aragorn to safety. The three lay there, panting, as the rest of the Fellowship waded back toward them.

"I'm sorry," Falenor said, his eyes closed.

"Sorry?" Aragorn asked. "You saved my life."

"The wind, she said to tell you she is sorry," Falenor said. The wind had indeed lessened greatly, as though ashamed of having knocked Aragorn over. "She only wanted to play."

"This is ridiculous," Legolas said. "If you can speak with the winds, then explain that that was not playing."

"But it _is_ playing," Falenor said, opening his eyes. "She said she was sorry, but she also said it was fun."

"Are you all right?" Merry asked, worriedly. He stood back from them, afraid to go near the edge.

"We're fine," Aragorn said, rolling over and pushing himself to his feet. Legolas stood too, but Falenor stayed in the snow.

"Falenor?" Gandalf asked softly.

"I don't understand," Falenor said softly, shaking his head. "She is gone." He stood and strode past all of the company, walking over the ridge and staring out to the north. "She should not be gone, she was going to meet the West wind... the West wind is gone."

"What does that mean?" Gimli asked.

"I don't know," Falenor's voice was low and frightened. "Nothing should be able to hold back the wind."

"Saruman," Gandalf said to himself. Falenor turned and looked back. A single tear traced its way down his cheek.

"He's chained her."


	10. 10 The Pass of Caradhas

**The Pass of Caradhras**

They were wading through deep snow banks. Legolas still walked above the snow, as did Falenor, but the rest had to push their way through chest deep snow. The hobbit's followed behind Boromir, who was using his great shield as a plow.

"Something's wrong," Falenor said, stooping to speak in Gandalf's ear.

"There is a fell voice on the air!" Legolas called back from where he had walked ahead.

"It's Saruman!" Gandalf yelled. Suddenly Falenor screamed and held his hands to his ears. Legolas turned back in surprise and made his way toward Falenor, but the peredhel had fallen to his knees facing into the wind.

_Help me! Save me! _

"Falenor! What is it?" Legolas asked, holding the drover in his arms. Falenor opened his mouth to speak, but another gust of wind sent him screaming.

_He's killing me! _

Falenor screamed in pain. It was not his pain, but the pain on the wind.

_Why won't you help me? Why won't a king rise up to defend his people?_

"I can't!" Falenor yelled. "I don't know how!" Another wave a pain slammed into him.

_There is no life in the cold. It strangles me. Tell your wizard, tell him I must bring down the mountain...!_

These last words echoed into a wail that filled the mountains. The sound pushed rock slabs and boulders down upon them, and Legolas barely managed to drag Falenor backward out of harm's way.

_I am giving up. I am broken..._

"NO!" Falenor screamed, coming to. "Gandalf, he's trying to bring down the mountain!"

"Who?" Gandalf asked, seizing the drover and looking into his eyes.

"Saruman's spell rides the South wind... the stallion cannot stop him," Falenor said. "No, he must be free! The wind must run free!"

"Gandalf we must turn back!" Aragorn shouted.

"No!" the wizard insisted. He turned in the direction of the wind and raised his arms. "Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i 'ruith!" (_Sleep, Caradhras, be still, lie still, hold your wrath!_)

But the foul voice drowned out his words, and it caused an avalanche of snow to fall upon them. Legolas snatched Gandalf from the edge of the cliff and forced him against the rock face as the ice hurtled downward and buried them.

They emerged, gasping for air from the snow. Falenor pushed his way back through the snow and began digging frantically. Aragorn reached out a hand to stop him, but Falenor threw it off and pushed snow aside. Sam emerged, taking deep lungfuls of air. The drover picked up the hobbit and put him aside as he continued to dig. A terrified whinny came from the hole he had made in the snow.

"Sedho, tethin gwedir!" (_Be still, little brother!_) Falenor called down to Bill. He continued to free the pony as Aragorn and Boromir argued. Bill finally shook off the last clumps of snow and stood trembling and wide-eyed.

"We will go through the mines," Falenor heard Frodo say.

"So be it," Gandalf replied, fear and doubt in his eyes. As the company turned to go back down the mountain, Falenor ran to Gandalf.

"You aren't just going to leave, are you?" Falenor asked the wizard.

"The Ring-bearer has decided our path." Falenor swore loudly, cursing Frodo and the Ring.

"What about the South wind?" He asked. "You can't just leave him imprisoned by Saruman!"

"The wind does not have feelings, Falenor!" Gandalf shouted. "It does not matter to me if it is in Saruman's service." Falenor's blue eyes flashed in defiance.

"A king must rise up to defend his people," Falenor said softly, repeating the South wind's plea. "The pain I felt it bear argues with you, Greyhame. I will not abandon him." With that he stood upon the snow and reached out his arms to the wind, which tore at him and tried to pull him down.

"Remember who you are!" he cried out into the wind, which screeched and clawed at him. "Be strong! Fight for your freedom!" The wind struggled more and seemed to twirl in on itself.

"Falenor, stop it!" Aragorn cried, for the whirlwind was threatening to pull the hobbits off the mountain. Abruptly the wind ceased completely and all was calm. Falenor sank once more to his knees. A tiny breeze, barely enough to stir the air, came and whispered in his ear.

_Thank you, my king._


	11. 11 Forgive, but Don't Forget

A/N: The song is "This Is Where I Belong" by Bryan Adams

**Forgive, but Don't Forget**

"I am sorry, Falenor," Legolas said. The Fellowship had come down from the mountain three days ago, and the drover had spoken to no one since, not even to Bill. "I did not realize that your story was more than a children's tale."

They were camped and darkness had fallen. The Fellowship had eaten well that night, mainly off of what plants Falenor had gathered for them.

"I owe you an apology, too," Gandalf said. "I had no idea that the wind could feel anything, much less that you could understand its feelings. I should not have abandoned it."

"Him," Pippin corrected.

"Him," Gandalf said, raising a bushy eyebrow at the hobbit. Falenor gave no reply, but instead took out a thin wooden flute and a wood-carved horn from one of his many pockets. The horn was small, barely fitting into his hand, and graceful. At its wide end a carved pony opened its mouth in a wild trumpet. Falenor put aside the horn and picked up the flute.

He played a few soft bars on it and then began singing to the same tune.

"I hear the wind across the plain

A sound so strong that calls my name

It's wild like the river, it's warm like the sun

It is here, this is where I belong.

Under a starry sky where eagles have flown

This place is paradise, it's the place I call home

The moon on the mountains

The whisper through the trees

The waves on the water

Let nothing come between this and me

Everything I want is everything that's here

When we're all together there's nothing to fear

And wherever I wander, the one thing I've learned

It's to here I will always, always return."

"I accept your apologies," Falenor said. "But what I will forgive, I cannot forget. The wind is my brother and you would not help him when he was suffering."

With these grim words Falenor took a heavy block of wood and began to carve it with his knife.

"Where did he get that?" Merry asked Pippin in a hushed voice.

"The wood? I saw him pick it up," Pippin said but Merry shook his head.

"No, the knife." Pippin turned and looked at the knife Falenor held. It was not his dagger, for that was still sheathed at his side, and it was too short to be one of the swords from his back.

"What are you making?" Frodo asked him softly. Falenor looked up and his eyes softened slightly.

"Something for when we reach Lorien," Falenor replied. "There is a friend there I want to give it to."

"Will it be a horn?" Frodo asked, tentatively picking up the one Falenor had set aside.

"No," Falenor said holding out his hand. Frodo put the horn into it. "This is the Trumpet of Ilayilia, carved by dragon magic," the drover told Frodo as he put the horn to his lips. He played softly, gently blowing. The sound that came from the carved pony's mouth was a series of soft neighs that were carried upon a light breeze.

"Is it magic, Mister Falenor?" Sam asked, listening to the hum of horses' voices.

"I've no idea," Falenor told the hobbit. "Perhaps Ilayilia knew, or the dragon who made it."

"That sounds like a good story," Pippin chimed in.

"The story of Ilayilia is long and told through song and verse," Falenor explained to the hobbits. "I can tell you it, but it will take many days and nights."


	12. 12 The Watcher in the Water

**The Watcher in the Water**

It was dusk and a grey light had fallen over the Fellowship as they picked their way through the boulders beneath a ruined aqueduct. Falenor had started speaking again, and sometimes he even gave the other members his crooked smile. But Bill seemed to have a great sense of humor, for the pony alone could coax a laugh from the drover.

Frodo and Gandalf walked ahead of the rest of them, whispering together. It was Gimli who recognized the steep, almost vertical cliff-face before them. "The walls... of Moria!" the dwarf whispered in hushed awe. Falenor looked up and the cliffs and frowned slightly. For someone who had never so much as slept under a roof, going into a cave was not the most inviting option.

"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed," Gimli told Falenor proudly. He knocked his axe against the rock as though testing it.

"Yes, Gimli, their own masters cannot find them, if their secrets are forgotten," Gandalf called back, placing a hand on the cliff.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Legolas sighed, causing Gimli to grumble and Falenor to give his crooked smile. Frodo abruptly gasped as his foot slipped and splashed into the shallow water of a great pool. Falenor reached out a hand to steady the hobbit, who gave a small smile.

Gandalf laid his hand upon the rock wall that stood between two trees. "Now... let's see. Ithildin - It mirrors only starlight... and moonlight." The moon suddenly broke through the clouds and silver lines appeared in the stone, creating and archway framed by two columns.

"It reads, 'The Doors of Durin - Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter'." Gandalf said, tapping his staff along the runes that arched over the door.

"What do you suppose that means?" Merry asked, peering out from behind Boromir.

"Oh, it's quite simple," Gandalf reassured him. "If you are a friend, you speak the password, and the doors will open."

"Sounds simple enough," Falenor murmured, but an amused and expectant look lit up his eyes.

"Annon Edhellen, edro hi ammen!" Gandalf said in a booming voice. Nothing happened.

"Fennas Nogothrim, lasto beth lammen!" Gandalf tried again. Falenor was trying very hard to hide a snicker behind his hand when the gates still refused to yield.

"Nothing's happening," Pippin remarked. The wizard turned and glanced at the hobbit, looking slightly annoyed. He went forward and tried to push the doors open, muttering to himself.

"What are you going to do, then?" Pippin asked innocently.

"Bang your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words," Gandalf growled at the hobbit.

Gandalf continued murmuring snatches of spells in different languages as the rest of the Fellowship spread out and sat down. Falenor took out his block of wood and began to whittle it. It was considerable slimmer than a few days ago and was starting to take on a shape. After a while, Aragorn attempted to release Bill, which upset Sam to no end.

"The Mines are no place for a pony, even one so brave as Bill," Aragorn told the sorrowful hobbit.

"Which is why I shouldn't be going in," Falenor muttered to himself, but he stood and went to reassure Sam as well.

"Buh-bye Bill," the hobbit said softly, on the verge of tears. Falenor gave Aragorn a wry smile and he leaned down and whispered into the pony's ears. Bill perked his ears forward then turned and picked his way back along the shore of the pool.

"Don't worry Sam, he knows the way home," Falenor assured the hobbit. Sam turned away and went to sit next to Frodo, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Namarie, tethin gwedir," (_Farewell, little brother_) Falenor called softly after the retreating pony. Then he turned and followed Sam.

"What was amusing you earlier?" Frodo asked the drover. The peredhel's blue eyes sparkled.

"Nothing, my _friend_," he told the hobbit. Suddenly things clicked into place and Frodo stood up staring at the door.

"It's a riddle!" he cried, suddenly realizing. "Speak 'friend' and enter. What's the Elvish word for friend?" he asked Gandalf.

"Mellon..." Gandalf told him. Suddenly the doors swung open with a great rumbling. Frodo turned and glared accusingly at Falenor.

"You knew! All this time you knew!"

"Gandalf looks very funny when he is thinking," Falenor told the hobbit.

"You have the wind's sense of humor," Aragorn said dryly as they walked cautiously into Moria.

"Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves!" Gimli told Legolas proudly. "Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone. This, my friend, is the home of my cousin, Balin."

Gandalf had placed a crystal upon his staff and he blew softly on this, causing it to glow softly.

"And they call it a mine. A mine!" Gimli continued with a disparaging tone.

"This is no mine," Boromir said slowly, an all-too-familiar reek filling his nose. "It's a tomb!" The light from Gandalf's staff revealing rotted, broken, and battered forms strewn about. Falenor's eyes widened and he shifted his feet nervously, stamping one as a nervous horse would.

"Oh! No!" Gimli wailed. "Nooooo!" The dwarf knelt down beside a dwarf's carcass. Legolas pulled an arrow from it and examined it.

"Goblins," the Elf said, casting away the arrow in disgust. Aragorn and Boromir drew their swords as Legolas notched an arrow to his bow. Suddenly Falenor had two knives in his hands one long and one short, but neither one of which was the dagger or the swords he carried on his back.

"We make for the Gap of Rohan," Boromir said, backing toward the entrance. "We should never have come here. Now get out of here, get out!"

Suddenly Frodo was seized from behind by a long, snaking tentacle. "Frodo!" The other hobbits cried, desperately clutching at their companion.

"Strider!" Sam yelled as Frodo cried out for help. Sam drew his short sword and hacked at the tentacle shouting, "Get off him! Strider!"

Aragorn turned and saw the struggling hobbits, who were desperately trying to keep Frodo from the water. Suddenly the tentacle let go and disappeared back into the water, leaving Frodo gasping on the shore.

As Aragorn ran toward them, however, dozens of tentacles slammed out of the water, slapping the other hobbits away and wrapping around Frodo's leg. Legolas ran out onto the shore and shot an arrow, which pierced a tentacle that was wrapping itself over Frodo's face.

"Strider!" Frodo cried out in fear and he was hurled through the air. Boromir and Aragorn rushed into the water and attacked the beast with their long swords. Falenor followed them, wielding his two knives with deadly accuracy. He slashed at the tentacles, creating deep gashes and cuts.

A hideous head reared from the water and the tentacles lowered Frodo into its gaping maw. With a cry Falenor sunk his long knife into a thick tentacle, piercing it through. The creature hesitated and Aragorn seized the opportunity to slice through the tentacle holding Frodo. The hobbit fell into Boromir's waiting arms and the Man turned to run back to the shore.

"Into the Mines!" Gandalf shouted as Aragorn and Falenor turned and sloshed back through the water.

"Legolas!" Boromir called, for the monster was reaching its tentacles toward Frodo once more.

"Into the cave!" Aragorn shouted pushing Merry and Pippin before him. Legolas took aim and shot the beast in the right eye. It recoiled with a roar and Falenor turned on the shore to look back at it.

"Run!" Aragorn shouted at Falenor, but the drover ignored him, flipping his knife expertly in his hand. He threw the blade and it twisted through the air before sinking into the beast's left eye socket. Falenor turned and ran into Moria with the rest of the Fellowship.

The beast howled and reached out with all of its tentacles to tear down the gateway. Large slabs of rock fell and blocked the entryway and the moonlight beyond. In the darkness that followed Falenor spoke.

"Damn. That was my best knife." Gandalf managed a dry chuckle.

"Congratulations Legolas, Falenor," he said in the darkness. "You've blinded the Watcher."

For those who are curious, the Watcher of the Water once inhabited the bogs near the Falls of Rauros. In those days, however, the creature was immature and known simply as the Kasta. It is unknown to this day whether the Kasta was moved to the pools outside Moria by his own design or that of Sauron's.


	13. 13 A Journey in the Dark

**A Journey in the Dark**

During one of their rests Merry and Pippin came up to Falenor and sat on either side of him.

"How do you do it?" Merry asked.

"Do what?" Falenor inquired. He had been carving the piece of wood again and now it was almost the right shape, if still a little rough.

"Make knives appear in your hand," Merry said. "Every time there's a battle it's like magic..."

"You mean like this?" Falenor asked and without warning two knives slipped into his hand.

"Yes!" Pippin said excitedly. "How do you do that?" Falenor chuckled and shook his sleeves back from his arms to reveal two sheaves attached to his forearms. He slid the knives back into place and then flexed his wrists. The knives slid out point first and he caught their handles.

"Just a bit of trickery," the drover laughed softly at the expression on the hobbits' faces. "Like this." He leaned forward and pulled a small rock from Pippin's hair. Pippin laughed when he saw the stone in Falenor's hand, but it too disappeared without warning.

"Where did it go?" Pippin laughed, holding Falenor's hand and turning it this way and that.

"Right here," the peredhel said, plucking the rock from behind Merry's ear. The hobbits laughed softly, but Falenor stood and walked a little way from them to sit down on another rock. He tossed his head nervously and snorted.

"Where did you learn to do that?" Aragorn asked, coming to stand beside him.

"Slight of hand?" Falenor asked, looking up at the ranger. Aragorn sat down across from him.

"No, to toss your head like that."

"Like what?" Aragorn imitated him.

"And also to stamp your feet when you are nervous and snort through your nose when you are angry." Falenor blushed slightly and gave his head another unconscious shake.

"My father was arrested when I was nine years old," he told the ranger. "I drove the Rhaw Nur myself after that. A drover spends nine months of the year on the road and alone, except for his horses. I guess I picked up some of their habits..."

"I am sorry about your father," Aragorn said softly, laying a hand on Falenor's knee.

"He was a good man," Falenor said softly. "My mother left to cross the Sea but she placed her trust in my father to raise me, and that trust was not in vain." He paused and looked at Aragorn. "He deserved better than to die in a cell."

"I am sure he did."

Falenor had not slept for the past two days. He could not convince his body to sleep when there was no sky above. He rested with his eyes closed and often offered to take late watches of the night. He missed the feel of the wind on his face.

They had climbed onto a narrow, flat plain where three great doors loomed down upon them. The Fellowship waited for Gandalf to confidently point the way but the wizard stood and looked from one door to another.

"I have no memory of this place," Gandalf said.

The Fellowship spread out, the hobbits gathering fuel for a fire as Aragorn sat on a flight of steep stone steps. Legolas stood, restless and watching, while Gimli and the hobbits slumped wearily about the fire. Falenor went and sat down beside Boromir.

"Are we lost?" Pippin asked Merry.

"No."

"I think we are."

"Shh," Sam scolded them. "Gandalf's thinking." Pippin was quiet for a second.

"Merry?" Pippin asked.

"What?" his cousin sounded resigned.

"I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry, Pip." Falenor smiled, it seemed like this was a very familiar conversation for the hobbits.

"The Ring is growing stronger," Boromir sighed softly. "And its bearer weaker. I can feel it. We all can."

"I don't understand," Falenor said honestly.

"How can you not?" Boromir asked, surprised. "It have become an ever-constant presence on my mind."

"I feel nothing."

"You are blessed," Boromir said, placing his head in his hands.

"Or cursed," Falenor mused, taking his carving from his pocket and undoing one of his smallest knives.

"It is no curse, believe me my friend," Boromir told him. For a while he watched the younger man carve intricate details upon the wood. "Have you ever seen Gondor?"

"I have never been south of the Misty Mountains," Falenor said.

"You could have a place there," Boromir told him. "A fighter such as you would be most welcome. And your gift with horses..." Falenor stood suddenly, his blue eyes cold.

"I serve no man," he said harshly. "Not king, nor steward. I stand alone."

"I said nothing of serving," Boromir backpedaled. "Only that your skills would be appreciated."

"Most appreciated, I'm sure," Falenor said venomously. Then he turned and stalked toward the three doors. Boromir watched as the drover turned his head one way then another.

"It's that way," Falenor said suddenly causing the entire Fellowship to scramble to their feet. "The air doesn't smell so foul down here." He turned and looked down at Frodo, who had come to stand beside him. "When in doubt, Frodo, always follow your nose."


	14. 14 Balin's Tomb and KhazadDum

**Balin's Tomb and the Bridge of Khazad-dum**

They had come into a great cavern. Although he could not see much farther than ten feet ahead, Falenor knew that the stone chamber stretched out far ahead because of the way the air moved in the open spaces.

"Let me risk a little more light," Gandalf said, tapping the crystal on his staff. A giant stone hall with tall pillars and arched ceilings was illuminated by the light of his staff.

"Behold: the great realm and Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf," Gandalf announced.

"Now there's an eye opener and no mistake," Sam said softly. They made their way forward softly, and Falenor felt more at ease in the open space, but the columns made him nervous. He drew one of the sabers from his back and twirled it expertly, glancing around the pillars.

Gimli gave an abrupt shout and he ran forward around a pillar and into a chamber. The Fellowship followed him, but Falenor was the closest behind him. He knew that light anywhere. That was sunlight.

Bodies and weapons were scattered about the side chamber, surrounding a white tomb. The sunlight fell from a shaft of light onto the sepulcher and Falenor had to resist the urge to stand on it and in the light. His blue eyes hungrily took in the sunlight, which shone brightly from the narrow window.

" 'Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria'," Gandalf read the runes on the tomb as Gimli knelt and sobbed. "He is dead then. It's as I feared." Gimli gave such a wail that Falenor was glad he had resisted the urge to stand on the tomb. He turned his face toward the light and soaked it in like a Manadh flower.

"We must move on, we cannot linger!" Legolas whispered to Aragorn. Falenor was upset, he wanted to stay in the sunlight, he wanted to feel its caress. For the first time since they had entered the mines, Falenor thought he might be able to sleep.

"They have taken the bridge... and the second hall," Falenor turned away from the sunlight slowly and saw Gandalf reading from a dusty tome. "We have barred the gates... but we cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes."

Gandalf had given his hat and staff to Pippin and the young hobbit backed away from the wizard, his eyes wide.

"Drums... drums... in the deep," Gandalf read. He looked up briefly and then turned the smudged, bloodstained page. The rest of them began to glance around uncomfortably. Legolas was right, they had already lingered too long.

"We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out," Gandalf glanced at the last, single line that had been scrawled across the bottom of the page. "They are coming!"

Suddenly a resounding crash echoed, and Pippin whirled around looking guilty. A corpse sat on a deep well, its head fallen off at the hobbit's gentle prodding. Falenor saw that the rest of the corpse was slipping and he reached out to try and stop it, but it fell and dragged a chain and bucket behind it. Pippin was wincing at each wave of noise.

Silence fell on them as they strained to hear something acknowledge their disturbance, but nothing came. Falenor breathed a sigh of relief as Gandalf slammed the book shut.

"Fool of a Took!" he yelled at Pippin, who cowered. "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" Falenor reached out a hand and placed it on Pippin's shoulder, looking down sympathetically at him.

"Are you all -" he was interrupted by the distant beat of a drum. A second one answered it. Falenor closed his eyes. "_Holy Orome, please let that be an echo,_" he thought to himself, but then a succession of beats sounded.

"Orcs!" Legolas said. Falenor cursed softly and drew his second saber. He was going to need it. Boromir ran to the door and looked down the cavern. He whipped his head back just in time as a cluster of arrows thudded into the door. Aragorn dropped his torch and ran to help Boromir.

"Get back! You stay close to Gandalf!" Aragorn ordered the hobbits as he helped Boromir pull the doors shut. A guttural roar bellowed outside.

"Oh good, they have a cave troll," Boromir said in sarcastic relief. Legolas tossed pikes and spears to Boromir and Aragorn for the two Men to blockade the door as Gandalf tossed aside his hat and drew his sword with a yell.

Gimli had climbed onto the tomb and he brandished his axe at the door. "Argh! Let them come! There is one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"

Falenor twirled his sabers lightly and they sang softly through the air. Something was breaking the doors down from the outside, and weapons came crashing through the splintering door.

Legolas and Aragorn had bows and they used these to shoot into the holes the weapons made, but without warning the orcs broke through the doors. Gandalf launched himself with a shout into them, and the four hobbits followed suit. Aragorn and Legolas drew their swords and followed Boromir into the fray. Gimli leapt from the tomb upon an armored orc.

Falenor's feet were tugging at him to move, the flight instinct almost overwhelming the need to fight. An orc was bearing down upon him, and the drover held his position as the beast came closer. The orcs raised his iron sword and charged upon the slight young man, who suddenly ducked aside and allowed the orc to pass him. The stupid creature let out a confused grunt as he stumbled. Falenor's blade flashed downwards and stabbed the orc's back. The saber stuck, and Falenor did not attempt to pull it loose. Instead he drew his dagger from his hip and engaged another orc.

The orc slashed at him, but Falenor blocked its blade with his long sword. He jabbed his dagger at the creature but its armor blocked it. Falenor disengaged his saber and leapt from the orc, standing lightly on the balls of his feet. The orc snarled at him, roughly swinging its blade from side to side, but Falenor danced out of the way every time, allowing the orc to tire itself out.

He sensed that something was behind him, and he ducked. The orc that had been sneaking up on him missed him completely and accidentally stabbed its fellow. The injured orc bellowed and lashed out at his companion, decapitating him. Falenor took his saber and stabbed the injured orc through the abdomen, leaving his sword there as he turned to face the battle.

While he had been fighting the troll had entered. It was stumbling near to Sam, who lay on the ground. Boromir and Aragorn were tugging on the troll's chains, but the troll twisted its arm and sent Boromir flying across the room. The Man land in a recess of the wall, dazed.

An orc stood above the Gondorian, ready to strike. Falenor adjusted his grip on the dagger and tossed it across the room. It landed in orc's neck and the creature fell.

"Need another blade," Falenor said to himself. Two orcs were coming towards Sam, who had still not gotten up. Falenor dropped into a somersault and came up in front of Sam. Two more knives were in his hands.

"I don't know how you do it Mr. Falenor," Sam said, but the drover spared him only a swift smile. The knives he wielded now were his shortest and it would take his utmost concentration to defend himself against the longer orc's blades.

The first orc raised its spear and snarled. Falenor leapt to one side as the orc stabbed at him and then the drover grabbed the spear and tried to wrest it from the orc's grasp. The orc would not let go, however, but pulled Falenor closer to him along the spear shaft.

The orc raised an iron-clad fist and punched Falenor in the face. The drover gasped in pain, but did not let go of the spear. Again the orc hit him and Falenor felt his nose crunch and break, and as the blood began to seep down his face Falenor saw dark spots cloud his vision. The orc raised its fist one last time and snarled.

Falenor gripped the spear tighter and pulled it forward, causing the orc to stumble towards him and into his outstretched knife. With a cry the drover turned to face the other orc, but Sam beat him to it, hitting the back of the orc's head with a frying pan.

"I think I'm getting the hand of this," the hobbit told Falenor. The drover blinked, the blood from his nose began to slip down the back of his throat.

"Mr. Falenor?" Sam asked, concerned. The peredhel blinked again, but turned suddenly and threw both of his knives across the room, where they felled an orc. Another of the beasts was charging toward them, but Falenor ducked under its first swipe, coming up with one of his boot knives in hand. He caught the orc's second swing on the hilt of his blade and he kicked its legs out from under it, sending the orc sprawling.

Lifting his knife, Falenor cut the creature's throat. A roar echoed above him. Falenor looked up and saw the flat features of the cave troll. The drover stood, pulling out a knife the length of his forearm from some hidden sheath. Falenor tried to place himself between the troll and Sam.

The troll picked up Falenor, trapping the drover's arms to his sides and shaking him roughly.

"Legolas!" Sam called desperately, seeing the Elf on the balcony above. The Elf glanced down and saw Falenor weakly struggling against the troll. Legolas picked up a spear from the ground and hurled it at the troll. The spear merely bounced off the troll's thick hide, but caused it to turn toward Legolas. With a grunt of annoyance, the troll dropped Falenor and swung a fist at the Elf.

Falenor hit the ground with a crash and lay unmoving. Sam ran towards him and pulled on the drover's clothes.

"Mr. Falenor? Mr. Falenor sir?" he called. Falenor groaned, but he had cracked his head on the fall and was dazed and disoriented. Sam tried to pull the peredhel to the side of the fighting, but he was to small to carry him. Suddenly Boromir was there and he lifted the young man into his arms with surprising ease. The Gondorian carried Falenor to the side of the room and laid him down on a pile of rock. Then he turned to defend him from any assault.

But by now all the orcs were either dead or were fled. The troll alone stood, flailing its arms for Merry and Pippin were seated on its shoulders and stabbing at its head. The troll opened its mouth as Pippin stabbed its head and forced it to look up. Legolas took aim with his bow and shot the troll through the open mouth.

The troll stopped fighting and its hand fumbled toward its mouth, were the arrow was stuck. For a moment all of the Fellowship paused and watched it warily. After a long, pained moan, the troll collapsed to the ground, dead.

In the brief silence Gandalf and Aragorn rushed to where Frodo lay, a spear sticking out of his chest. Sam slowly approached, dread etched on his features.

"Oh no," Aragorn sighed, reaching a hand out to the hobbit. Suddenly Frodo groaned and gasped for air.

"He's alive!" Sam said, rushing forward in delight. Gandalf sighed in relief as Frodo sat up.

"I'm all right, I'm not hurt," Frodo insisted, sitting up.

"You should be dead!" Aragorn said in amazement. "That spear would have skewered a wild boar."

"I think there's more to this hobbit than meets the eye," Gandalf said, eyes twinkling. Frodo unbuttoned his shirt and revealed a glimmering coat of Mithril.

"Mithril!" Gimli said in awe. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins." Suddenly Sam remembered something and he turned back to wear Boromir had deposited Falenor. The young man was sitting up now, pale in the darkness.

"Are you all right, Mister Falenor?" Sam asked. The drover grimaced and took Boromir's offered arm. His left arm was bleeding heavily, a long gash running down his forearm. Falenor unsteadily collect his knives, the rest of the Fellowship watching him carefully.

"I look like I bloody tried to commit suicide," Falenor said at least, sheathing the last of his swords. Merry and Pippin laughed in relief, but were cut off by the sound of orcs in the distance.

"Come!" Gandalf said. "To the Bridge of Khazad-dum!"

They fled the chamber and ran out into the pillared hall. Falenor had lost much blood and even though Boromir supported him, the drover still stumbled and tripped often. An army of orcs were hot on their trail, and still the foul creatures crawled like spiders down from the ceiling, cutting off their escape.

The Fellowship stopped in a tight circle, weapons pointing outward. Falenor's hand shook as he tried to hold his dagger steady. The orcs snarled and leered at them, and the drover could see that many had already picked him out as their target.

"_Just like wolves attacking a herd of ponies,_" he thought wryly to himself. "_They pick out the weakest._"

From his right Gimli let out a yell, brandishing his axe. The orcs scattered and fled and Gimli chuckled to himself, clearly thinking himself responsible.

A thunderous rumble boomed from the end of the hall. Boromir turned, still supporting Falenor on one side.

"What is this new devilry?" the Captain asked wearily. At first Gandalf did not answer, but closed his eyes concentrating. Another rumble tore through the hall.

"A Balrog," Gandalf said at last. "A demon of the ancient world." Falenor cursed under his breath and Legolas stared in fear at the fiery tunnel. "This foe is beyond any of you... Run!" the wizard ordered.

They crossed the cavern, Falenor running at a hop-skip in his attempt to keep up with Boromir. When they came to a small doorway, it was clear that the two could not go through together.

"Go, I will follow," Falenor told Boromir.

"Quickly!" Gandalf urged them. Boromir entered the passage and ran down a flight of steep stairs. The flight was missing a segment and Boromir nearly fell as he hovered unbalanced at its edge. Falenor seized the man, his arm slippery with blood as he pulled him back from the edge.

"Gandalf!" Aragorn shouted.

"Lead them on, Aragorn!" the wizard insisted. "The bridge is near." He looked across the wide space toward where a long bridge spanned the gap. Aragorn tried to move closer to Gandalf as another roar tore the air, but the wizard pushed him roughly away.

"Do as I say!" Gandalf said harshly. "Swords are no more use here!"

The Fellowship descended another flight of steep stairs, running as fast as they dared. Falenor went slowly, tripping and stumbling as black dots danced at the edge of his vision. He silently cursed himself; his own slow progress was creating a gap in the Fellowship, separating Sam, Gimli, Frodo, and Aragorn from the others.

Suddenly they stumbled upon a gap in the staircase. Legolas leapt easily across and turned back toward the others. Another rumble from the Balrog set the foundations trembling and caused many rocks to splinter and crumble.

"Gandalf!" Legolas cried, gesturing for the wizard to follow. Gandalf looked back over his shoulder before turning to leap the gap. Legolas caught and steadied him.

Arrows whistled through the air from a far ledge; goblin archers come to pick off the fleeing Fellowship. Legolas shot back at them as Boromir grabbed Merry and Pippin and leapt to safety on the far side.

"Falenor!" Boromir shouted. The drover turned and looked at the gap. It seemed to swim before his eyes and grow larger.

"Do you need help?" Aragorn asked from behind Sam, Frodo, and Gimli.

"No... I think I can make it..." Falenor said. He bent his legs and jumped lightly across the gap. Boromir and Legolas caught him and steadied him. Falenor blinked hard and shook his head, trying to drive away the blackness creeping in at the edge of his vision. He was vaguely aware that his nose had finally stopped bleeding.

(Falenor had been joking earlier when he had commented about suicide. In reality, the jagged cut along his arm was draining a great deal of blood from him. If Falenor did not stop it soon he would go into shock, in fact he was already experiencing its early stages. His skin had turned cold and his mouth dry. The drover was stumbling from fatigue and his eyes were sometimes unfocused.)

"Sam," Aragorn said, tossing him to Boromir. The ranger leaned down to pick up Gimli but the dwarf held up his hand to stop him.

"Nobody tosses a dwarf," he growled then attempted to jump across the gap. His feet just barely found a purchase on the stone and Gimli began to fall backwards. Legolas grabbed the dwarf's long red beard and pulled him to safety.

"Not the beard!" Gimli shouted through gritted teeth. Some of the stone steps began to crumble and fall. Aragorn grabbed Frodo and pushed him to safety. The two climbed to their feet as the gap between them and the rest of the Fellowship widened.

"Steady. Hold on!" Aragorn yelled to Frodo, fighting to keep his own balance. Just then the Balrog roared again and Falenor looked up to see its fiery form pushing through the stone structures, causing other slabs of rock to tumble down. One of them crashed through the stairs behind Aragorn and Frodo and took out a large chunk of its foundations. The stairs they were standing on began to wobble dangerously.

"Hang on!" Aragorn yelled, gripping Frodo's shoulder tightly. "Lean forward!"

"Come on!" Legolas called in encouragement. Aragorn and Frodo shifted their weight forward, tipping the stairs across the divide and slamming them onto the steps on the far side. The two leapt to safety. The Fellowship ran down the stone stairs as the steps Aragorn and Frodo had been standing on seconds before collapsed and tumbled behind them.

The fire was licking at their heels, and that alone gave Falenor the strength to run. He stumbled, the ground rising up dangerously close several times, but the fire was almost around his boots now.

"Over the bridge! Fly!" Gandalf encouraged them. Falenor stumbled past and the wizard set out a hand to steady him. The brown eyes of Gandalf gazed into Falenor's blue ones. "Run," he told him quietly. Falenor tried to, but he was trembling with cold, despite the fire at his back.

There was a narrow bridge ahead and Boromir, who was the bringing up the rear, was already half way across.

"Manwe Almighty!" Falenor shouted a prayer as he stumbled across. If he ran, he would trip and fall, but if he went slowly, the Balrog would surely catch up. Falenor settled for running.

He was almost three quarters of the way when he did trip, the bridge flying up to meet his face. Falenor's hands shot out and caught his fall as the rest of the Fellowship watched, horrorstruck.

"Falenor!" Legolas called, running out onto the bridge. The drover half ran, half crawled along the bridge. His vision had gone black save for a small space directly in front of him. The Elf reached him and, putting his arms around his waist, dragged him to safety.

"Hanno lle," (_Thank you_) Falenor gasped, panting for air. But Legolas was looking at something behind him.

"You cannot pass!" Falenor froze.

"Gandalf!" he heard Frodo cry. The drover turned slowly and saw the Istar standing in the middle of the bridge confronting the Balrog.

"I am the servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the Flame of Anor..." Gandalf shouted, lifting his staff. "The dark fire will not avail you! Flame of Udun!"

A massive fiery sword appeared in the Balrog's hand and he struck down at Gandalf. The wizard parried the blow with his blade, shattering the fire demon's sword. Glowing sparks ran off a circle of light the had flickered into being around the wizard. The Balrog snarled at Gandalf, and Aragorn tried to run forward. Lunging out, Falenor caught the ranger's arm and held him back.

"Go back to the Shadow!" Gandalf said through clenched teeth, just barely loud enough for the Fellowship to hear. The Balrog stepped onto the narrow bridge, brandishing a flaming whip.

"You - shall not - pass!" Gandalf shouted, lifting his staff and sword together. He drove these into the bridge, causing a bright blue light to flash. The Balrog, nostrils flared, stepped onto the bridge and cracked its long whip.

The narrow stone bridge collapsed from under the fire demon's hooves, sending it plummeting down into the chasm. Falenor watched as Gandalf leaned heavily on his staff and watched the Balrog's fall. The wizard turned to follow the rest of the Fellowship when Falenor saw it: the flaming whip lashing up from the depths.

"No!" the drover called, letting go of Aragorn's arm and running forward himself. The whip snapped around Gandalf's ankle and dragged him over the edge. The wizard barely clung to the bridge, desperately clutching the edge. Falenor stumbled and fell onto his hands and knees. He was at the far end of the bridge, but his eyes were level with Gandalf's and it seemed the wizard was speaking to him.

"Fly, you fools!" Gandalf said, letting go and falling out of sight.

Sound stopped, vision become clouded. Falenor was barely aware that someone had helped him to his feet and was half dragging him from the bridge and out into the bright sunlight.


	15. 15 The Drover's Blessing

**The Drover's Blessing**

Falenor swayed slightly, staring at the door they had just run through.

"Give me a gentle herd who will love me for what I am,

And keep ever burning before me vagrant steps the kindly light of hope...

And though I come not within sight of the field of my dreams,

teach me to be thankful for life,

And for time's olden memories that are good and sweet.

And may evening's twilight find me gentle still.

Let your days be filled with light, may the road rise up to meet you

And may your spirit never be broken."

He whispered to himself. He had not known the Istar before that Council of Elrond, but he knew that many around him did. Legolas had known the wizard for hundreds of years.

Falenor blinked, staring down at his arm as through it belonged to someone else. The cloth of his coat was cut and the soaked through with dark red blood. The sheath he wore one his arm had saved his life, for though it had been severed through the cut was shallower there. Now the leather band held on by a thin strap, the knife hanging loosely and pricking the palm of his hand.

_Saved my life...?_ Falenor thought vaguely. _You could still die if you don't bind it. _He reached out a hand to wipe away some of the blood when Aragorn's voice called out.

"Falenor, get them up," the ranger called. The drover turned and stared at him blankly. His mind was fumbling to understand words. At last Aragorn's order clicked into place and Falenor turned from the door.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir cried, struggling to restrain Gimli who was trying to run back into the Mines.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs!" Aragorn argued. Falenor, shivering in his own cold, walked over to Merry and Pippin. "We must reach the woods of Lothlorien. Come, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, help Falenor get them up."

The drover put out his right hand and gently touched Merry's shoulder. The hobbit looked at him, tears swimming in his hazel eyes.

"You're shaking," Merry told him, his voice flat. Falenor blinked hard and swayed. "Are you okay?" Falenor opened his mouth to respond, but Legolas came and gently raised Merry to his feet. Trembling the drover sat down hard on the ground as Pippin stood up, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"Falenor?" Legolas asked, but the drover did not respond. His eyes, unfocused, stared into the distance. The Elf looked at him in concern and saw that his pupils were so dilated that the drover's eyes were more black than blue. "Falenor?" Legolas said, placing a hand on the peredhel's shoulder and shaking him. Falenor blinked hard and shook his head.

"I'm fine," he said, but his voice was hoarse with thirst.

"Falenor, Legolas, Merry, Pippin!" Aragorn called from where he stood with Frodo. "Come on!" Falenor shakily put his right hand down and used it to boost himself into a standing position. Legolas and the hobbit's watched with concern as the drover moved slowly away from him.

The peredhel walked past Aragorn, his eyes blank and his head bowed. The world was swimming, the ground rocking horribly. He could barely stand, let alone walk.

They had come to a glade where icy blue water gurgled, a stream coming down from the mountains. Patches of snow still adorned the ground, in soft cold blankets. Aragorn was in the lead, and he ran ahead to gaze at the green-gold woods of Lorien that glimmered between the mountains.

"Falenor?" A voice called, shocked and scared. Aragorn turned and saw the drover fold over and collapse to the ground. The ranger ran back to wear the young man lay, crumpled in the grass.

"Falenor? Falenor!" he shouted, turning over the peredhel. "What's wrong?" Falenor did not answer, but closed his eyes and went limp. Aragorn felt his skin and it was cold and clammy.

"Aragorn," Boromir breathed, coming closer. "His arm..." The ranger picked up Falenor's limp left arm and saw that it was soaked in blood.

"We have to move," Aragorn said. Boromir nodded and leaned forward, picking up the unconscious drover, taking care of his injured arm.

They traveled over the rocky ground that day, going as fast as the hobbits could run. Falenor woke up several times and demanded to be put down, arguing feebly with Boromir. When night had nearly fallen Legolas discovered a small empty cave and the Fellowship moved into it.

Boromir set Falenor down near the entrance to the cave and Aragorn kneeled beside him.

"Thank the stars it was a vein," the ranger remarked. "Or you'd be dead." He tore a length of fabric from his shirt and tightly bound the jagged cut. Sam passed around food but no one was very hungry. Falenor declined anything to eat and he fell asleep, his injured arm held awkwardly at his side.

Gimli took first watch, sitting up with his smoking pipe as the rest of the Fellowship fell asleep. Some time in the night, about two hours after the sun had set, the Dwarf heard someone taking fast and shallow breaths. He twisted around and saw Falenor's chest heaving with small quick breaths.

"Aragorn," Gimli woke the ranger in a soft grating growl that was the dwarf's best attempt at a whisper. Aragorn woke, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Gimli nodded to where Falenor lay, his breaths growing faster and faster.

The ranger knelt at the drover's side. "He's in shock," Aragorn whispered.

"Should I get him some water?" Gimli offered.

"No, his body would poison it!" Aragorn said. He thought for a moment, then shook his head. "We must get him to Lorien tomorrow, before the day is out."

"What are you going to do for him now?" Legolas asked. The Elf slept lightly and their whispers had easily woken him. Aragorn hesitated, then placed a hand upon Falenor's chest. When the drover exhaled, Aragorn pushed down, forcing the air from his lungs. Falenor's lungs compensated by desperately gulping down more air. Aragorn pumped this out, too. He continued to do this until Falenor's breathing returned to normal.

"I'll take the next watch," Legolas offered quietly.


	16. 16 Princes and March Wardens

**Princes and March Wardens**

By the next afternoon they had come upon a wide grassy field that led up to a wood of tall trees. Falenor had insisted on walking, but he had placed one arm around Boromir's shoulders.

The Fellowship ran across the thick grass and reached the trees. Boromir and Falenor stumbled after them and came last under the golden boughs.

"Stay close, young hobbits!" Gimli warned. "They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods, an Elf-witch, of terrible power. All who look upon her, fall under her spell..."

Falenor managed a wry smile, but he tripped upon some roots and Boromir had to grasp him tighter to keep him from falling.

"...and are never seen again," Gimli continued. "Well, here is one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox!"

Suddenly Elven archers stepped out from behind the trees. They had arrows notched to their bows and they aimed these in the faces of the Fellowship.

"Oh!" Gimli gasped, shocked. The archers were male and female and dressed in silver armor with long grey robes over their shoulders. Legolas had whipped out his own bow and he aimed an arrow back at one of the archers. Falenor felt Boromir shift beside him, but the Gondorian did not reach for his weapon.

"The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark," a golden haired Elf, the captain, remarked. Gimli growled in annoyance, but said nothing as three more arrows were pointed at him.

The captain of the Elves smiled and turned away. His eyes caught sight of Falenor, hanging limply from Boromir's shoulders. The Elf frowned and moved closer between the archers and Falenor. Immediately those archers lowered their weapons, not daring to take aim around their captain's back, but the others still sighted the Fellowship along their shafts.

The Elf captain placed a finger under Falenor's chin and forced his head up. The drover blinked, his eyes blank and dazed.

"Anduin?" The Elf asked, confused. Aragorn turned, causing the archers to tense and follow him.

"That is Falenor, son of..." Aragorn stopped, realizing he did not know the name of Falenor's father. But the Elf seemed to recognize Falenor, for his eyes widened in surprise. He nodded to two of the archers who lowered their bows and came forward to take Falenor from Boromir.

"Hey!" the Gondorian protested, his hand going to his sword.

"We will not harm him," the Elf told him. "He is our kin."

The two Elves laid Falenor out on the grass where he shivered and moaned. The Elf captain came to him and knelt down by his side.

"Peace Falenor, son of Lathien," the Elf told him. "I am Haldir the march warden. You are safe now, my prince."

"Prince?" Pippin asked wide-eyed. "Falenor's a prince?" Haldir did not respond, but he took a small vial of purple liquid from his belt pouch. Opening Falenor's mouth and uncorking the bottle, Haldir carefully poured seven drops onto the drover's tongue.

"Miruvore," Haldir said as Falenor drank the potion. "Is the nectar of the Valar." Immediately the color returned the Falenor's face and the drover opened his blue eyes, which now where clear and focused.

"Do you remember me?" Haldir asked him with a small smile.

"Haldir?" Falenor asked. "It has been so long..."

"You were a child then," Haldir told him, helping him to stand. "You still are a child to me."

"Tofn phillin, Haldir," (_Lower the arrows, Haldir_) Falenor said, frowning at the archers. "Hyn ah amin." (_They are with me._) The march warden hesitated but nodded for his archers to lower their bows.


	17. 17 Lothlorien

A/N: The song "House Carpenter" is by Bob Dylan

**Lothlorien**

Haldir would let them go no farther that day, but had his Elves climb trees and toss down rope ladders for the Fellowship to climb up.

"Can you make it?" Haldir asked Falenor, for while the miruvore had brought the drover out of shock his arm was still injured. Falenor merely began to climb, his teeth gritted against the stabs of pain coming from his arm.

Up in the wide branches of the tree a platform was nestled. Falenor pulled himself onto this, several Elven hands reaching out to help him. He took one and looked up into a small face framed by dark brown hair.

"Caleyn?" he asked, recognizing the wood Elf. She smiled, her grey eyes lighting up to see him. "What are you doing here?" The Elf did not answer, but nodded her head to someone behind her. Nellas, her sister, stood there giggling. The Elven sisters were rather silly, but they were faithful and true.

"Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion," (_Welcome Legolas, son of Thranduil_) Haldir said. The Woodland prince bowed slightly.

"Govannas vin gwennen le, Haldir o Lorien," (_Our Fellowship stands in your debt, Haldir of Lorien_) he said. The march warden nodded and glanced at Aragorn.

"A, Aragorn in Dunedain istannen le ammen," (_Oh, Aragorn of the Dunedain, you are known to us_) he said. From behind his shoulder Nellas smiled at the ranger.

"Haldir," Aragorn said with a bow, much lower than Legolas's.

"So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves!" Gimli grumbled. "Speak words we can also understand!"

"We have not had _dealings_ with the Dwarves since the Dark Days," Haldir said, and in a lesser being the expression on his face might have been a sneer.

"And you know what this Dwarf says to that?" Gimli said insolently. "Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul!" (_I spit on your grave._) Several of the Elves started forward angrily, but Falenor held up his hand and they stopped.

"That was not so courteous," Aragorn told the dwarf grabbing him and forcing him to meet his gaze. But Haldir had already moved on, and he was looking at Frodo.

"You bring great evil with you," the Elf told the hobbit. Then he turned to Aragorn, "You can go no further." Falenor seemed uncomfortable, and he shifted his feet slightly and tossed his head. Aragorn went a little way aside to argue with Haldir and Falenor joined him with Legolas.

"Boe ammen veriad lin. Andelu i ven!" (_We need your protection. The road is fell!_)

"Lorien u'beria le," (_Lorien cannot protect you_) Haldir said softly.

"Merin le telim," (_I wish we may come with you_) Aragorn insisted.

"U'amath Korma, al min aigerin," (_We shall not shelter the Ring, nor the one who bears it_) Haldir argued.

"Henio, aniron boe ammen i dulu lin!" (_Please, understand, we need your support!_) Aragorn begged. Legolas turned and looked at Frodo. The hobbit looked away uncomfortably. "Andelu i ven." (_The road is dangerous_).

"Ah nogothrim?" (_And the dwarf?_) Haldir asked, looking slightly disgusted.

"Gwasta ho," (_I vouch for him_) Aragorn said swiftly.

"Hon u'feira," (_It is not enough_) Haldir said, shaking his head.

"Haldir, Brennil gwasta Anduin, nin edir, tolanann ir nogothrim mina Caras Galadhon," (_Haldir, the Lady promised Anduin, my forefather, that a time would come when the Dwarves could enter Caras Galadhon_) Falenor said softly. "Anann o Eldar orsha." (_The time of the Elves is almost over._)

Haldir looked annoyed, but his resolve was giving in. "Gwastale ho?" (_Will you vouch for him?_) Falenor hesitated a moment, meeting Aragorn's eyes.

"Nedh rant," (_Of course_) he said. Haldir considered for a moment then nodded.

"Hon feira," (_It is enough_) he decided. He went toward where the rest of the Fellowship was sitting.

"You will follow me," he announced. Falenor went to Gimli and leant down to whisper in the dwarf's ear.

"I just stuck my neck out for you," he hissed. "So, for Eru's sake, mind your manner if you have any!"

They walked through the tall golden woods, and Falenor seemed to always be surrounded by Elves. They reached out to touch him and talk with him in Elvish. The drover seemed uncomfortable about this, but he answered them in Sindarin and the Elves seemed very pleased by this.

"Falenor has quite a following," Merry remarked to Sam. Sam just shrugged and looked up at the Elf-maiden walking beside him. She did not wear armor or hold weapons like the others, but she ran lightly through the trees, her footsteps never breaking a stem of grass or crushing one of the tiny golden flowers that grew there.

"Hi!" Pippin said to her. The Elf nodded and smiled, but she did not speak.

"I'm Pippin," the hobbit tried again. "This is Merry, Sam, and Frodo." Still the maiden did not speak, but she laughed and tossed back her long dark hair.

"What's your name?" Merry asked. She looked at him, slightly puzzled and began to hum softly.

"She does not speak," Falenor told the hobbits, coming the stand beside the Elf-maid. The girl smiled and leaned against the drover, her grey eyes filled with light. "But she will sing if you ask."

"Why doesn't she speak?" Sam asked curiously.

"I do not know," Falenor said, his shrug dislodging the Elf from his shoulder. "Her sister Nellas will sometimes. But Caleyn has never spoken."

"Will you sing for us?" Merry asked the Elf, bowing slightly. She giggled and patted his head.

"Come, Caleyn," Falenor told her, taking her hand. "Let us sing the House Carpenter." And the drover began to sing softly.

"Well met, well met, my own true love

Well met, well met, cried he

I've just returned from the salt, salt sea

And it's all for the love of thee.

I could have married the King's daughter there

She would have married me

But I have forsaken my King's daughter there

It's all for the love of thee."

Caleyn smiled and sang back to him, her voice high and sweet.

"Well, if you could have married a King's daughter there

I'm sure you are to blame

For I am married to a house carpenter

And I'm sure he's a fine young man."

Falenor sang the next verse to her.

"Will you forsake your house carpenter

And come away with me?

I'll take you where the green grass grows

On the banks of the salt salt sea."

"If I forsake my house carpenter

And come away with thee

What have you got to maintain me upon

And keep me from poverty?"

"Six ships, six ships are on the sea

Seven more are on dry land

A hundred and ten bold sailor men

Shall be at your command."

"She picked up her sweet little babe

Kisses gave him one, two, three

And said, 'Stay right here with the house carpenter

And keep him good company'."

Suddenly another Elf-maiden struck up the song, and she was so alike in appearance to Caleyn that the hobbits knew this must be her sister Nellas.

"She dressed herself in rich attire

So glorious to behold

And as she rode upon his horse

She shone like glittering gold.

They had not been out about two weeks

Two weeks or maybe three

When this lady began to weep

And she wept most bitterly."

"Tell me why are you weeping so?

Is it for your golden store?

Or is it for your house carpenter

Whom never you shall see anymore?"

"I'm not weeping for my house carpenter

Nor for my golden store.

I am weeping for my sweet little babe

Whom never I shall see anymore."

"They had not been at sea but three weeks

I'm sure it was not four

When our gallant ship sprang a leak

And it sank to rise no more.

One time around spun our gallant ship

Two times around spun she

Three times around spun our gallant ship

'Til she sank to the bottom of the sea."

"Farewell, farewell my own true love

Farewell, farewell cried she.

I have forsaken my house carpenter

Now I'll die at the bottom of the sea.

What hills, what hills are those my love?

Those hills as white as snow?"

"Those are the hills of heaven, my love

Which you and I'll never know."

"What hills, what hills are these my love?

All covered in shadow?"

"Those are the hills of hell, my love

Where you and I must go."

It was a sad song, but the Elf-maids' voices were so beautiful that the hobbits found themselves smiling, even Frodo. Gimli himself had to fight of the tears the came to his eyes, so beautiful were their voices.

"Caras Galadhon," Haldir announced as they suddenly came to a gap in the trees. A great glade of trees rose up from the forest. "The hear of Elvendom on earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light."

As they continued through the trees Falenor walked beside the hobbits, Nellas and Caleyn skipping beside him.

"Are you really a prince, Falenor?" Pippin asked him. The drover frowned slightly.

"I don't know..."

"You don't know if you're a prince?" Merry laughed. Falenor gave them a crooked smile and the Elf sisters giggled.

"My mother was Lathien, eldest daughter of Galadriel," Falenor explained. "If the Elves were to remain on Middle Earth, then yes, I would be first in line of succession."

"Oh," Merry said, silently mulling this over.

"And what about your girlfriend?" Gimli asked, nodding toward Caleyn. To the dwarf's embarrassment the Elf doubled over laughing, as did Nellas. Falenor blushed deeply.

"Nellas and Caleyn?" he asked, shocked. "They are like my sisters! They practically raised me!" The Elf sisters laughed and pulled Falenor's black hair. The drover swatted their hands away.


	18. 18 In Caras Galadhon

**In Caras Galadhon**

They climbed along the winding path between trees so thick that it would have taken eight men to circle their trunks with their arms. The company passed beneath wooden archways that were made of living trees and climbed platforms over the thick roots.

"Welcome home," Nellas told Falenor. It was the first time any of the hobbits had heard the Elf-maid speak. The drover shook his head.

"Home is where your family is," he said softly.

"Your family is here," Haldir told him, his brow knit with confusion.

"No, the Rhaw Nur are my family," Falenor said. "I have known my grandparents for only five years."

"That is not their fault," Haldir said loftily, turning away. When Falenor saw the hobbits looking at him he sighed.

"When I was a child I lived in Lorien," he explained. "But when my mother crossed the Sea, she left me in the care of my father. It was... a bit of a scandal in Lorien. Their crown prince off in the world of Men learning to become a drover and a thief."

"It still is a scandal," Haldir called over his shoulder.

"Well marked," Falenor sighed.

When night fell, the moon and stars caused the staircases built into the side of the trees to glow a soft blue. The Fellowship followed the Elves up one of the twisting stair, under arches of glimmering silver lights, as though the stars had fallen and gotten caught up there.

Finally they came to a palace in the trees, lit strongly with silver lights. The Fellowship walked up the curving walkway and came to stand at the foot of a low staircase. Haldir, Nellas, and Caleyn stepped aside, revealing a brightly glowing couple that descended the staircase. Celeborn and Galadriel shone, the very air around them pulsing with their light.

The Fellowship stared in awe, Legolas and Aragorn touching their hands to their forehead in greeting. Falenor bowed low, remembering his childhood spent in these very halls.

"The Enemy knows you have entered here," Celeborn said, slow and austere. "What hope you had in secrecy is now gone. Nine there are here, yet ten there were, set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him... I can no longer see him from afar."

"Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of the land," Galadriel said, her voice strangely detached. "He has fallen into shadow..." Her grey eyes fell on Aragorn who nodded slightly.

"He was taken by both Shadow and Flame: a Balrog of Morgoth," Legolas told the Lady. "For we went needlessly into the net of Moria." Gimli, ashamed, bowed his head.

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life," Galadriel said, and it seem that emotion had come back into her voice. She was in the present now, no longer seeing in times other than this. "We do not yet know his whole purpose." Galadriel turned and looked at the sorrowed dwarf.

"Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dum fill your heart, Gimli son of Gloin," Galadriel told him kindly. "For the world has grown full of peril. And in all lands, love is now mingled with grief." Her gaze turned to Boromir, who blinked and swallowed hard. Finally, Boromir broke her gaze and turned away, tears in his eyes.

"What now becomes of this Fellowship?" Celeborn asked. "Without Gandalf, hope is lost."

"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife," Galadriel announced. "Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all." Falenor felt as though a hand was squeezing his heart. "Yet hope remains while company is true," Galadriel smiled at Sam.

"Do not let your hearts be troubled," she said. "Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrows and much toil. Tonight you will sleep in peace." She gave Frodo a side-long glance and the hobbit's eyes widened.

"Falenor, my child," Galadriel said, spreading her arms. Falenor came forward and, taking both her hands, knelt before Galadriel.

"You look so like your father," Galadriel told him. "I am glad." Falenor bowed over her hands.

"Where are your rings, child?" Celeborn asked.

"I gave them back," Falenor told the Elf lord. "For, like that of the Eldar, the time of the Rhaw Nur is fading."

The Fellowship was settling down to rest, the hobbits spreading their bedrolls in the tent the Elves had set up for them. In the trees above, Nellas and Caleyn were singing softly.

"A lament for Gandalf," Legolas said softly. Aragorn sat, sharpening his sword while Gimli slept beside him.

"What do they say about him?" Merry asked the Elf.

"I have not the heart to tell you," Legolas said, shaking his head. "For me the grief is still too near."

"I bet they don't mention his fireworks," Sam told Merry, standing from where he had been crouching making the bed. "There should be a verse about them:

The finest rockets ever seen,

They burst in stars of blue and green..."

Gimli snored loudly and Aragorn, annoyed, turned and swatted the dwarf's pillow. Gimli grunted slightly, but stopped snoring.

"Or after thunder... silver showers...

Came falling like a... rain of flowers..." Sam continued. He sat down, shaking his head. "Oh, that doesn't do them justice by a long road." Aragorn stood and walked over to where Boromir was sitting alone. Falenor was sitting near the hobbits, carefully stitching the rip in the arm of his coat.

"He sounds like a great man," Falenor said to Frodo.

"Did you not know him before... all this?" Frodo asked the peredhel. Falenor shook his head.

"All I know of him was that he was a great wizard," Falenor said, tugging the thread through the fabric. "And a gentle rider."

"Rider?" Pippin asked, yawning widely.

"Aye," Falenor said with a smile, recalling the words his mare had spoken to him. "A bridle is not such a bad thing if the rider is gentle."

"I don't get it," Pippin said, curling up on his pallet. Falenor leaned over and tugged Pippin's blanket across the hobbit.

"It just means that he was respected among my people."


	19. 19 The Mirror and Memories

A/N to Werepanther: how incredibly refreshing to have a third reader! To answer you question, I spent many long hours working on the Elvish with the great aid of Hisweloke's Sindarin dictionary. It won't get you everything you need, but it's pretty darn helpful as far as vocabulary goes.

**The Mirror and Memories**

Falenor climbed down the steps long after the others had fallen asleep. He was not surprised to see Galadriel there, waiting for him in the glade.

"You wish to look into the mirror," the Elf lady told him. Falenor nodded slightly.

"What do you wish do see?"

"My family..." Falenor started, then stopped abruptly. Galadriel smiled sadly at him.

"Do not be ashamed to call them that, for that is what they are," she told him kindly. "I will show you the Wild Breed... do you wish to see their past or their future?"

"Their present," Falenor told the Lady. She smiled and poured the water into the shallow silver basin. Stepping back, she gestured for Falenor to step forward. The drover climbed the stairs to the basin. He gave Galadriel one last look, then bent forward to look into the basin.

The herd was grazing peacefully under the clear night sky. Falenor could see many of them that he knew well, Merilin and Halftack, Lark and Rhiw. Many slept, dozing on their feet under the starry sky. In the woods, almost tucked away out of sight, were the Elven guards keeping watch over the herd by night.

Falenor looked up and met Galadriel's eyes. The Lady smiled slightly.

"And Eledhwen?" Falenor asked. Galadriel nodded, and the drover eagerly turned back to look at the basin. The silver water rippled slightly and cleared. Falenor looked at the image of Eledhwen it showed him and smiled to see her safe and well.

A/N: At night, Falenor dreams... 

"_Falenor, come here!" A voice called. Falenor smiled and ran into the arms of the tall Elf. Nellas picked him up, laughing and pulling back his hair. It was long and braided back in the manner of Elves. Nellas held up the child and swung him around._

"_Wee!" the peredhel prince yelled, extending his arms. "I'm flying!" Nellas laughed again and pulled the child close to her chest. She carried him through the trees, humming softly for him and picking little elanor flowers for the child to give to his mother._

"_Mommy!" Falenor yelled, twisting in Nellas's arms and reaching for the tall Elven lady who walked with Caleyn between the mallorn trees. Lathien turned and smiled, her long golden hair glittering in the sunlight and her grey eyes sad. The princess kneeled and extended her arms. Nellas set Falenor down and the child ran to his mother. _

_Lathien smiled, running her long fingers through Falenor's hair and kissing his forehead._

"_You be good for your daddy," she told him. _

"_When are you coming back?" Falenor asked her, pouting out his lip and crossing his arms. Lathien turned and wiped a tear from her eye. _

"_Just stay with your daddy," she told Falenor, clutching him in a close hug. The child held on to her white robes as she stood. Behind Lathien stood the Man who had fathered the little peredhel prince. He had hair as black as ravens and sapphire blue eyes. Falenor peeked out from behind his mother as the Elf princess turned to the Man._

"_Fanduin, I have never asked anything of you," Lathien said, closing her eyes in pain. "But my sister needs me..."_

"_I know," Fanduin said softly. He had lain with the Elf, but have never courted her more than that. "I will look after my son." Lathien nodded, and bent down to pry Falenor's hands from her robes._

"_Falenor, go say hello to your daddy," she told him softly. The peredhel had never met his father, nor anyone who looked like him. His grandparents had kept him close in the woods, never allowing any Man to look on their daughter's only son. _

_The little boy timidly stepped out from behind his mother's robes and went to Fanduin. He looked back over his shoulder at his mother, who smiled and nodded encouragingly. Falenor turned back to the Man who was his father and bowed, causing Fanduin to chuckle. _

"_Can you ride, son?" Fanduin asked him. Falenor looked back at Nellas nervously and shook his head. Fanduin smiled and knelt in front of the boy. The Man took off his two rings, the ones given to him when he himself was a boy._

"_If you take good care of these, I'll give you your very own pony," he told Falenor. The little boy's blue eyes widened, and he plucked the rings from Fanduin's palm. Fanduin stood and ruffled the boy's hair. "Good lad."_

_But when Lathien turned and made to walk away, Falenor cried out and ran after her. Caleyn caught the child and scooped him up._

"_Mother!" Falenor cried out, extending his arms after her retreating figure. Lathien paused and turned back, tears filling her grey eyes. _

"_I'm sorry, child," she whispered, and turned away. _

"_Mommy!" Falenor screamed. _

"_Falenor, please," Nellas said, coming to stand in front of the child and blocking the his view of Lathien._

_After a while Nellas stepped back and nodded to her sister who put down Falenor. The child ran past them through the tall mallorn trees, but his mother was gone. The peredhel sat down in the woods and began to cry. Fanduin found him there and he gently picked the child up. _

_When he was put down on the grass again Falenor looked up and saw, to his delight, a herd of ponies. There were hundreds of them, standing and chomping on the long thick grass. The Man, his father, was coming back towards him carrying a tiny foal under one arm. He set the foal down next to Falenor who reached out a hand to pet its golden fur and trace the star on its forehead. _

"_This one's yours," Fanduin said, smiling. "Your very own pony. When she gets big enough, I'll help you to train her."_

"_What are you doing?" A voice called from the trees. Falenor turned and look back at a party of Elves standing in the golden woods. Haldir was at the front, anger and shock etched on his face. Fanduin walked and placed himself in front of his son and the tiny foal._

"_His mother asked me to take care of him," the Man said firmly. _

"_You? A... petty horse thief?" Haldir spluttered. "Does Galadriel know about this?"_

"_I don't know," Fanduin said, shifting uncomfortably. Falenor peeked out from behind his father's legs. "Lathien asked me to come and collect the child."_

"_He is our prince!" Haldir shouted. "And raised as such! You have no claim over him!"_

"_He's my son."_


	20. 20 The River Anduin

**The River Anduin**

The river was peaceful and flowed by gently beneath the trees of Lorien. Falenor unbuckled his leather jerkin and tugged off his boots. He pulled his shirt over his head and undid the various leather straps the held his knife sheaths close to his body. When he had stripped to the skin he waded into the water.

It was cold, colder than he had expected. He kept walking until the water was up to his shoulders and he had to hold the little carving up to keep it from the water. He had finished it last night and now he looked over it with pride.

It was a tiny boat, carved from one piece of wood. Like the boats of the Elves, this little boat's bow curved up and ended in a carved head. But while the Elven boats had swan heads rising gracefully from the water, Falenor's carving had a small pony's head, its mane flowing back from its graceful neck. On its side he had painstakingly carved the name _Lathien_. Falenor had placed elanor flowers into the hollow hull of the ship.

He held the carved ship in the water for a moment and it dipped and bucked in the river's flow. Gently Falenor released the little ship, and it sailed away downstream. He watched it go for a moment, then turned and waded back to shore.

Standing on the bank, he dressed himself in his clothes, still looking down the river, but the little boat was long out of sight.

"You bathe in the Anduin to be closer to him," Galadriel said, coming through the trees. Falenor blushed, wondering how long she had been watching. The Lady came and stood before him, a sad smile on her face.

"Anduin is not in the water," she told him. "For it is not big enough to hold a spirit such as his. He is gone beyond the Sea."

"Perhaps my offering will find him there," Falenor said, nodding towards where the little ship had disappeared. Although he named the ship after his mother and the flowers in it were for her, he had really carved it in honor of Anduin the Valiant.

"You look so much like him," Galadriel told him. "The same hair and eyes... once you even had his nose." Falenor pressed his hand to his crooked nose.

"It was broken in Moria, my Lady," he told her. She smiled at him.

"Would you like me to fix it?" Falenor nodded and Galadriel passed her hand over his nose. Something shifted and grinded into place.

"Ow!" Falenor said, raising a hand to touch his nose. It was straight again, but still tender. "Thank you, my Lady," he grimaced. Galadriel laughed softly.

"My lady," he said hesitantly. "Why do I not feel the darkness of the Ring? I am Man, I am Elf, but I feel nothing when I look upon it."

"You are wrong, Falenor," Galadriel sighed. "It is not a curse like you believe. You feel nothing when you look upon it because that is what a Rhaw Nur would feel. The wild northern ponies do not feel greed or desire, and so the Ring has no hold over them... over you." Falenor considered this for a moment and shook his head.

"I hope you find what you are looking for in the world, dear one," she told him.

"I am not looking for anything," Falenor told her.

"We are all looking for something," Galadriel insisted.

"I want... I want to breed the Rhaw Nur," Falenor admitted. "I want to see them running across the hills of Brethil, one last time." The Elf lady turned and gazed into his eyes.

"The future of the Wild Breed is hidden from me," she said softly. "But I can see the threads of your future, depending on the paths you choose to take." Galadriel smiled at him. "You will never be the Lord of Lorien, that much is clear to me. For when I decline and go into the West, Lorien will fade and diminish."


	21. 21 Farewell to Lorien

**Farewell to Lorien**

Celeborn and his Elves fastened cloaks around each member of the Fellowship with green, silver-veined leaf brooches.

"Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people," the Elf Lord announced. "May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes."

The Galadhrim loaded parcels into the three boats provided to the Fellowship. Legolas opened one and showed a thin wafer of bread to Merry and Pippin where they sat on the shore.

"Lembas! Elvish Way-bread," he told them. "One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man." He turned and walked up into the woods, leaving the hobbits by themselves.

"How many did you eat?" Merry asked Pippin.

"Four," Pippin said, stifling a burp. A little ways off in the wood Celeborn walked with Aragorn and Falenor through the early morning mist.

"Every league you travel south, the danger will increase," he told them. "Mordor Orcs hold the eastern shore of the Anduin. Nor will you find safety on the western bank. Strange creatures bearing the mark of the white hand have been seen on our borders. Seldom do Orcs journey in the open, under the sun, yet these have done so!"

The three of them paused and Celeborn held out a sheathed dagger for Aragorn.

"Le aphadar aen," (_You are being tracked_) he warned them. Aragorn took the dagger and buckled it to his belt. "By the river you have the chance of outrunning the enemy to the Falls of Rauros. Truly did Galadriel say that the fate of Middle Earth would rest on that river!" Falenor nodded slightly; Galadriel had many years ago prophesied that the river bearing his forefather's name would decide the fate of Middle Earth.

The two of them joined the rest of the Fellowship, who stood lined up for Galadriel's farewell. She came to stand before Legolas and she handed him a finely carved bow.

"My gift for you, Legolas, is a bow of the Galadhrim, worthy of our woodland kin," she told him. Legolas grinned as he accepted the bow and drew it to test its strength. Galadriel smiled lightly as she turned to Merry and Pippin.

"These are the daggers of the Noldorin," she said, giving each of them a sheathed dagger. "They have already seen service in war."

She bent down as Pippin examined the glittering dagger with some trepidation. "Do not fear, young Peregrin Took. You will find your courage."

"And for you, Samwise Gamgee," she said moving down the line. "Elven rope, made of hithlain."

"Thank you, my lady," he said, accepting the length of rope. Sam looked sidelong at the blades Merry and Pippin were holding and looked up hopefully. "Have you run out of those nice, shiny daggers?" He asked. Galadriel smiled and turned to Gimli.

"And what gift would a Dwarf ask of the Elves?" She asked him. Gimli diverted his eyes, for in the bright blues and greens of the forest Galadriel's soft hair shone and glittered like spun gold.

"Nothing," Gimli grunted shyly. Then he looked up and met the Lady's soft grey eyes. "Except to look upon the Lady of the Galadhrim one last time, for she is more fair than all the jewels beneath the earth." Galadriel laughed softly, her face light up with joy. Gimli scuffled his feet and began to turn away, but suddenly remembered something.

"Actually, there was one thing - ah, agh, that's quite impossible," he mumbled. "Stupid to ask." The Lady leaned forward and Gimli stood on his toes to whisper in her ear. She laughed again and stood up. Gimli look slightly abashed, but then amazed as Galadriel ran her fingers through her hair and combed out three golden strands. She wound these around her finger and gave them to the dwarf.

Galadriel moved to stand before Falenor and the smile faded from her lips.

"I am afraid of what you will ask of me," she said softly. "For I cannot say what fate will befall the Rhaw Nur, whom you love. Nor can I See your mother from afar." Falenor hung his head, a sorry sigh escaping his lips. Galadriel placed his fingers beneath his chin and forced him to meet her eyes.

"I do have this to give," the Lady smiled. She turned and beckoned for Nellas to come forward. The Elf maiden did so, holding a small casket of white wood. Galadriel nodded to Caleyn who stepped forward and opened the box. Reaching inside, Galadriel took out a brooch from the velvet lined box. It was a many pointed star, the sign of the Dunedain. All ranger's bear this brooch, but Galadriel leaned forward and pinned it to Falenor's coat.

"This belonged to Anduin, son of Alenor," she told him, her fingers resting on it for a moment. "I took it from his body and placed it in this casket, for I knew this day would come."

"Thank you," Falenor said, and he lifted Galadriel's hand and pressed his lips to it. She smiled sadly and then moved to stand before Aragorn. But suddenly she turned back and did something she had never done before, not in all her many days. She embraced her grandson. The drover hesitated for a moment then put his arms around her, burying his face in her long golden hair, so like his mother's.

"You are a member of the Rhaw Nur," she whispered in his ear. "You see what the ponies see and know what the horses know. You are brave, Falenor. For you will choose the path of pain rather than to be rusva, broken."

The words seemed familiar, but Falenor could not place them.

"Gulman ant anira o lle," (_I know what gift I would have asked of you_) he told her softly. Galadriel pulled back slightly and looked at him, her eyes inquiring. "Anira lle tessa amin." (_I would have asked you to embrace me._) She smiled sadly and placed a hand on his face.

Then the Lady of Light turned and went to Aragorn who stood a little way away. Falenor did not hear what words they exchanged, for the Elven sisters threw themselves upon him and hugged him tightly.

"Ethelithon," (_I will come back_) he assured them, stroking their long dark hair, but they shook their heads and held him even tighter.

"Ai! laurie lantar lassi surien,

Yeni untime ve ramar aldaron!

yeni ve linte yuldar avanier

mi oromardi lisse-miruvoreva

Andune pell Vardo tellumar

nu luini yassen tintilar i eleni."

Nellas and Caleyn sang, half sobbing. Falenor blinked, struggling to comprehend what they were trying to tell him.

"You're... you're leaving?" He asked them, stunned. "You're going across the Sea?" Caleyn nodded sadly, wiping tears from her grey eyes. "When did you decide this?"

"Lathien," Nellas said.

"All these years?" Falenor asked them, dumbstruck. "All these years and you never told me?" Nellas placed a hand on his face and shook her head.

"Too young," she said.

"You should have told me!" Falenor said, seizing her wrist. "Why not when we were in Rivendell together? Why didn't you warn me then?" Nellas shook her head again, and walked away. She returned with a elanor flower and gave it to him.

"Here," she said, and Caleyn nodded. Falenor stared at the star-shaped flower and understood. Here, where he had left them when he was a child.


	22. 22 The Voyage on the Great River

**The Voyage on the Great River**

Aragorn sat in the boat Frodo waited in and Falenor joined him there, sitting at the prow. Gimli, Legolas, and Sam were in a boat to their right and Boromir, Pippin, and Merry rowed a little off to the left.

The sun rose slowly over the hills, its rays falling on the retreating figure of Caras Galadhon. In the dawn, voices sang out and so beautiful were they that they could only belong to the Elven sisters Nellas and Caleyn.

They paddled the boats into a larger branch of the Anduin, where sheer cliffs towered over the water. Gradually throughout the day the cliffs gave way to forests of low hanging trees.

"Falenor, put ashore here," Aragorn called as night was finally falling, covering the land in dusk. Falenor dipped his paddle deeper in the water and pushed the small boat over to the rocky bank. When the boat scraped against the sand the drover leapt out and pulled it farther on shore.

"Orome as my witness," he said under his breath. "I hate boats." He gave Frodo a crooked smile which was not returned. Falenor reached out to help Frodo from the boat, but the hobbit recoiled from him. The peredhel stood back, hurt and confusion in his blue eyes as Frodo allowed Aragorn to help him from the boat.

As they unloaded some of the packs Frodo went a little up on the bank and sat by himself. Falenor followed him and squatted down next to him.

"Frodo?" He asked, his soft voice concerned. He reached out a hand to touch the hobbit's shoulder, but again Frodo flinched from his touch. "Frodo I would never hurt you."

"Wouldn't you?" Frodo asked, his light blue eyes wide with fright.

"Frodo!" Falenor exclaimed, unable to keep the hurt from his voice.

"I'm sorry," the hobbit said, not sounding sorry at all. "I think I'm just tired."

"Okay," the drover said, standing up. "If that's how you feel."

By the time they had unpacked and lit a fire it was truly night. Falenor had scavenged a little among the large boulders, but he found little growing there in the murky half-light.

"Just some dandelion roots," he sighed, giving them to Sam. Then he sat back and pulled the thin flute from his pocket. The melody he played was haunting, a low throb that expanded and then grew into a high whistle.

The entire company had stopped to listen to the fair melody and as the trill of the flute faded with the last notes, Legolas gave a sad little sigh.

"Sam, the food is burning," Falenor told the hobbit softly.

"What? Oh!" Sam cried, taking the pan from the fire.


	23. 23 Foxes and Wood Sorrel

**Foxes and Wood Sorrel**

The next day they steered the boats along a narrow canyon. The river picked up it's pace and they barely had to paddle.

"Frodo, the Argonath!" Aragorn said from behind Falenor. The drover turned and saw the ranger staring up at something in front of him. "Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old."

Two enormous statues rose out of the river in front of them. They were of giant Men, helmeted and cloaked, and both raised their hands in a gesture of warning.

"My kin," Aragorn and Falenor said at the same time. They looked at each other in surprise.

"We're related?" Aragorn asked. Falenor shrugged, and dipped his paddle deeper into the water.

"How are you related to the kings of old?" Aragorn inquired.

"Directly to Elendil, on my father's side," Falenor told him, gazing up in awe as they passed between the two statues.

"I am descended from Isildur, son of Elendil," Aragorn said. "To think all this trip I have been traveling with kin!"

"Are you related to everyone?" Merry asked as their boat drew level with the statues. Boromir cast a dark look at Aragorn as they did so.

"Not everyone," Falenor shrugged. "Just most of the kings of old." Merry and Pippin each raised an eyebrow. Falenor looked at the two of them and barked out a laugh.

Falenor dipped his paddle deep into the water and turned the boat to the gravel shore of the lake. Before them a mighty waterfall tumbled, and Falenor did not want to go that way. Finally the three boats crunched against the shore and the Fellowship began to make camp. Falenor did not try to offer Frodo help to get out of the boat; he was still hurt by what the hobbit had said.

"Merry, get some firewood," the drover told the hobbit. He recognized a few stems of plant growing around the base of a crumbling statue. Falenor knelt down and pulled up lengths of wild onion, coming up with a handful of the roots.

Something else caught his eye and he rounded the statue to see a wizened little bush, cowering in the shelter of two boulders. It's green bell-shaped flowers gave Falenor a small smile. He pushed a few of the stems aside and found a clump of green and purple berries. He plucked a few of the blueberries, leaving a some to ripen. It was a natural habit; as a drover he would pass through an area several times a year, and he always left a little of the edible plants he found in case he passed through again.

"We cross the lake at nightfall," Aragorn was saying. "Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north." Gimli started to say something about impassable mazes of rocks, but Falenor moved farther away, seeing some wood sorrel.

If chewed, the clover-like leaves of the plant would alleviate thirst. Falenor picked a few of the broad leaves and placed them in his pocket. He brushed his fingers along the white flowers, which curled slightly at his touch. The drover took a few of them; with sugar they made a sweet desert. He hoped the hobbits would like them, and maybe they would even cheer up Frodo.

By now Falenor had wandered so that he was barely in sight of the Fellowship. He could only see Legolas and Aragorn, who appeared to be having some sort of argument. A little way away, through the trees, Falenor thought he saw some nettles growing. His hands were full, however, and so he turned back to give his finds to Sam.

"No dwarf need recover strength!" Gimli was grumbling. "Pay no heed to that, young hobbit."

"Where's Frodo?" Merry asked, returning with an armload of firewood. Falenor felt his stomach drop a little and he pushed his way past the berry bush. Aragorn whirled around at the sound of cracking twigs, his hand on his sword.

"Where did you go?" he asked harshly. Falenor froze and stamped the ground nervously with one foot.

"I saw some wood sorrel..." he said, his mouth dry.

"Where's Frodo?" Aragorn asked, accusation in his voice.

"I haven't seen him!" Falenor said, his hands tightening around the wild onion and causing them to release a sharp, tangy smell.

"He didn't leave my sight!" Legolas said, stepping between Aragorn and the drover. The ranger turned to look in the woods and his gaze stopped on Boromir's shield, lying with his baggage.

"Merry, Pippin, Sam," Aragorn said. "Stay here. If anything goes amiss, hide. Do you understand?" The three hobbits nodded fearfully. "Gimli, Legolas, Falenor, and I will spread out."

Falenor stuffed the wild onions, blueberries, and wood sorrel into his pockets and pulled out a long dagger from some hidden sheath. The others went into the forest, softly calling Frodo's name, but Falenor kept along the shore.

"Frodo?" He called softly, walking crouched low to the ground. "Boromir?" He knew that the others suspected the Gondorian, but how could he? How could he when he didn't even understand the pull of the Ring?

The trees here were low, mainly scrubs and brush. Falenor climbed over an enormous stone hand that was missing the rest of its body. These woods seemed familiar, as if he had walked through them before in a dream of a dream. The drover heard something scuffle in the leaves beneath a boulder.

"Frodo?" he asked, crouching down to peer into the dark recess. Suddenly a startled fox jumped out, chittering in fright. Falenor had turned to watch it with a half-smile when he froze. There were boots tramping through the forest.

Without a second thought Falenor dropped and rolled into the darkness of the fox's previous hiding place. He struggled to slow his breathing and remain perfectly still. For a moment all was quiet save the steady tramp of boots.

Heavy, nail-studded boots fell a few inches from Falenor's hiding spot. He resisted the urge to pull back farther, knowing that the rustle of leaf litter would give him away. Without warning, the boots stopped right outside. Falenor held his breath and gripped his dagger tighter.

"Find the Halflings!" A voice snarled from directly above. The creatures roared and charged away. But the boots directly in front of Falenor remained still. He heard something breathing heavily, sniffing the air. The drover felt his breath catch in his chest, and he prayed it would not smell him.

From a hollowed log just within Falenor's sight, the fox darted out. It was running head-long, giving out short terrified barks. The boots moved away and there was a swish of a heavy blade. The fox's frightened squeal stopped abruptly.

Falenor remained hidden until the tramp of boots had faded away. When he was sure he was clear, he rolled out from his hiding place. The fox lay a little way away, a bloodied heap of red fur.

"I am sorry my friend," Falenor whispered, knowing the fox's terror had saved his life.

Keeping low and dodging from cover to cover, Falenor made it back along the shore to where they had been setting up camp. The hobbits had gone, hopefully hiding far away. _Find the Halflings! _still echoed in his head.

The drover heard something splash in the lake and he turned to see Frodo helping Sam into the boat.


	24. 24 Amon Hen

**Amon Hen**

"I made a promise, Mister Frodo. A promise! 'Don't you leave him Samwise Gamgee.' And I don't mean to! I don't mean to," Sam sobbed, water dripping down from his curls.

"Oh, Sam!" Frodo said, hugging the gardener close to him. "Come on."

"Frodo!" A voice called out. It was Falenor, standing on the Western shore. Even from here Frodo could see the hurt and confusion in the drover's eyes. The hobbits were not far enough from the shore that Falenor could not swim out and stop them.

"Frodo?" Falenor asked, his soft voice carried to the hobbit by the wind. Frodo shook his head slightly, praying that the peredhel would not try and stop them. He had to do this, he had to go on without them.

From out of the woods a horn sounded. Three loud blasts echoed through the trees.

Something in Falenor's face changed. He reached into one of his many pockets and pulled out something. The Trumpet of Ilayilia. He placed the tiny wooden horn to his mouth.

It was not the gentle braying of horses he had played for the hobbits earlier. It was a stallion's wild bugle, his challenge to any who dared attack his herd.

Falenor played two short blasts, then a long call. The drover turned and ran, his boots splashing in the water. He ran into the woods back towards the north, sounding his trumpet again and again.

"He's leading them away!" Sam said, the relief causing him to sob slightly. "Valar bless him!" Frodo watched the drover disappear into the forest of statuary.

"They already have, Sam," he told his companion softly.

From out of the woods a horn sounded. Three loud blasts echoed through the trees.

"The Horn of Gondor!" Legolas called to Aragorn, recognizing the call.

"Boromir!" the ranger said, turning to run down the slope. Suddenly in quite the opposite direction, a horse trumpeted. Aragorn stopped and listened to the call.

"That sounds like help!" he said softly.

"Yes!" Gimli growled. But the second call was farther away, moving away into the north. Aragorn frowned; he could not understand why someone coming to aid them would be moving away. But the Horn of Gondor sounded again, and Aragorn placed the horse's trumpeting from his mind and cut down the strange goblin-men standing in his way.

Falenor leapt through the trees, still moving away from the Horn of Gondor and from the shore. He could hear the beasts following him, snarling at him to turn and fight. But Falenor had given his instincts over to the horse side of him, and that told him to run.

He scrambled up a stone ruin and ran across it. It was easier to run here but he was also in danger of...

The drover dove to the ground as arrows whistled over head. Crawling on his arms he made it to the far side of the smooth stone, which ended abruptly in a drop. The large orcs were closing in. Falenor jumped from the stone structure and landed lightly on the balls of his feet.

As he ran through the trees he sounded two more blasts on his horn before tucking it in his pocket. He had succeeded in getting the tall orcs to follow him, now he had to figure out what to do about it.

A pine tree hung low branches up ahead, blocking Falenor's path. The drover jumped, grabbing the branches and hauling himself up into the safety of the trees. The strange beasts ran beneath the tree, their footfalls causing the pine to tremble.

"Where'd the scum go?" They hadn't seen him climb the tree. The creatures milled about below his hiding spot, squinting through the trees.

"Come on," one of them said at last. "Let's get out of here." They began to jog quickly back to the shore, back to where Frodo and Sam were crossing the lake. Falenor jumped down from the tree, landing on one of them and stabbing it. The other orc-like creatures turned with snarls, lifting their long iron swords.

"How do I get myself into these things?" Falenor asked himself quietly, standing and releasing the sheaths on his arms, causing the two knives to fall into his hands.

The first of them came at Falenor, swinging his battle axe with a grunt. The drover jumped, allowing the axe to swing harmlessly beneath him. The beast tried again, and this time Falenor landed squarely on the blade, trapping it beneath him. The tall orc gave a squeal of surprise as the two knives sank into his heart.

Two more came at him, and the peredhel drew his sabers from their scabbards. He parried the first blow, coming up beneath it with a slash. Spinning on the spot Falenor caught the second creature's blade on his own, allowing the length of iron to slide along the steel blade and catch on the hilt.

He twisted the saber, disarming his opponent. With a yell he kicked that one to the ground and turned again, bringing both sabers up in a cross. One of the strange being's iron swords clanged there, the sabers stopping what would have been a fatal downward cut. Falenor struggled, the beast bearing down on him with its immense weight. He tried to twist the blades to the right and then to the left, but he could not wrench the sword from its master's grasp.

Ducking smoothly under the crossed blades, Falenor butted the creature's stomach with his head, knocking the breath out of it. As it fell, however, the strange hook at the end of its sword caught Falenor's sabers and pulled them down with it. The drover abandoned the swords, pulling out the dagger he wore at his hip and a tiny knife from its hidden sheath.

The goblin-men croaked with laughter at the size of the knife, which was barely half a foot long. Falenor looked sideways at it, then threw it. It tumbled end over end through the air and landed in the middle of one of the laughing creature's forehead.

Its eyes crossed as it struggled to look up at the knife, now buried hilt deep in its head. Slowly, with a low groan, the beast fell backward. The other tall orcs looked at their companion and eyed Falenor warily.

The drover bared his teeth at them as another knife appeared in his hand. The orc-like creatures grunted, backing away from the one man with fear in their eyes.

Suddenly a brown shape leapt over a fallen column. It was a stallion, who reared and pawed the air as he bugled furiously. The beasts fled before its powerful hooves, squealing with terror. The stallion chased them a short ways, then stopped and snorted at their retreating figures. The horse turned and looked over its shoulder at Falenor.

The drover gaped back, astonished at the fierce wildness of the horse before him. The stallion pinned back its ears and glared at Falenor. The peredhel slowly allowed his weapons to fall from his hands and the dagger and knife clattered the the floor. The stallion approached warily, one ear pointed in the direction the tall orcs had fled and the other pointed at Falenor.

"_You don't look like a stallion," _the horse said, leaning down to sniff the drover.

"Im u'anuroch," (_I am not a stallion_) Falenor replied softly. The chestnut started, pinning its ears back and backing away.

"_It can talk!" _the stallion neighed in surprise. Falenor smiled slightly and held up a hand. The stallion hesitated and then slowly leaned forward, so that the drover's hand rested on his nose.

Falenor bent slightly and breathed gently into the stallion's nostrils, as horses will do when meeting each other. The stallion inhaled and exhaled softly for Falenor to smell. The chestnut's breath smelled like hawthorn trees and apples.

Suddenly a voice called Falenor's name. The stallion's ears swiveled back and he stomped the ground.

"Al!" (_No!_) Falenor started, but the horse turned and leapt back over the column. For a second the drover stared after him, but then the call came again.


	25. 25 The Road Goes Ever On

**The Road Goes Ever On**

"No! Aragorn yelled, running to where Boromir lay. The captain of Gondor was pale and bloodied, lying on his back and taking deep shuddering breaths of air. Aragorn knelt next to him and Boromir grabbed his shoulder.

"They took the little ones," he gasped, trembling with the effort it took to speak.

"Be still," Aragorn whispered.

"Frodo! Where is Frodo?"

"I let Frodo go."

"Then you did what I could not," Boromir admitted. "I tried to take the Ring from him."

"The Ring is beyond our reach now," Aragorn assured him, placing a hand on the side of Boromir's white face.

"Forgive me. I did not see it. I have failed you all," the captain said weakly.

"No, Boromir, you fought bravely! You have kept your honor." Aragorn reached out a hand and tried to pull the shafts from Boromir.

"Leave it," the captain commanded. "It is over. The world of Men will fall, and all will come to darkness... and my city to ruin."

"I do not know what strength is in my blood," Aragorn swore, taking Boromir's head in both his hands and forcing the soldier to look at him. "But I swear to you I will not let the White City fall... nor our people fail!"

"Our people?" Boromir asked softly. "Our people..." He reached for his sword, and Aragorn placed its hilt in his hand and helps him to clasp it to his chest.

"I would have followed you my Brother... my Captain... my King!" Boromir said. His breath shuddered in his chest and his eyes fixed. Aragorn touched his hand to Boromir's forehead, then bent down to touch his lips to the captain's still face in a sign of respect.

"Be at peace, son of Gondor," he told him. Legolas and Gimli arrived, and they looked on sadly as Aragorn shut Boromir's eyes. The ranger stood and looked down at the Gondorian's still body.

"They will look for his coming from the White Tower. But he will not return," Aragorn said sorrowfully. He turned and saw Legolas and Gimli standing there. "Where is Falenor?" Legolas turned and looked behind him, as though expecting to see the drover there.

"I've not seen him since..." the Elf began, then he turned and faced Aragorn, horror in his eyes. "The river... he ran in the direction the Uruk-hai were coming!"

"We must find him!" Aragorn said. He remembered the harsh words he had spoken to the drover and prayed that those were not his last to him.

"Falenor!" Aragorn shouted, running back toward the river.

"Falenor!" Legolas repeated, calling through the trees. Gimli trotted after them, occasionally calling for the peredhel. They searched all the woods between where Boromir lay and the camp, but they saw no sign of the drover.

"No!" Aragorn yelled, kicking out at the firewood Merry had collected. He could not bear to lose two members of the Fellowship on one day.

"Elessar, u'dambeth lle," (_Elessar, this isn't your fault_) Legolas said, placing a hand on Aragorn's shoulder.

"I accused him, Legolas!" Aragorn said through gritted teeth. "I accused someone who never gave me any reason to doubt him!" Sudden realization struck the ranger. "That horse-call! That was him! We ignored him calling for help."

"We didn't know," Gimli told him, patting his hip. "We knew that Boromir was in trouble, and so we went to help him." Aragorn shook his head and turned away from their comforting.

"I should never have let him go off alone," he said. "Especially after I spoke to him in anger." There was a rustling of leaves and the sound of dry twigs cracking beneath boots. Aragorn whirled around, hand on the hilt of his sword. Gimli turned to, raising his axe with a cry as Legolas fitted an arrow to his bow.

"I'll take that as an apology," Falenor said, looking at Aragorn. The drover let out a huff of air as Gimli threw himself upon him and hugged him tightly around the knees. Falenor had a cut on his face, running across his cheek, but otherwise he looked unharmed.

"Never do that again!" Legolas told the peredhel with a relieved smile. Falenor smiled crookedly at him and then swept his blue eyes over the forest.

"Where's Boromir?" he asked. "Where are Merry and Pippin?"

They laid Boromir's body in one of the boats. Falenor placed the captain's shield at his head as Aragorn curled Boromir's stiff fingers over the hilt of his sword.

"Why didn't you ask about Frodo and Sam?" he asked the drover suddenly. Falenor did not look up, but merely adjusted the broken halves of the Horn of Gondor where they lay next to their master.

"I let them go," he told Aragorn softly. The ranger put a hand on Falenor's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"So did I," he said softly. Falenor looked up at him, and Aragorn saw some of the hurt and confusion at the hobbits' parting still lingering in the peredhel's eyes. Together they pushed the boat carrying Boromir into the river.

Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, and Falenor watched as the boat slipped out of sight over the Falls of Rauros. After a while Legolas began to shove a boat into the water.

"Hurry!" he urged them. "Frodo and Sam have reached the eastern shore." Aragorn stood still and said nothing. Legolas looked inquiringly at Falenor, but the drover averted his gaze uncomfortably.

"You mean not to follow them?" the Elf asked, his eyebrows knit with confusion.

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands," Aragorn told him softly.

"Then it has all been in vain!" Gimli said, shaking his head sorrowfully. "The Fellowship has failed." Aragorn stepped forward and put a hand on Legolas's and Gimli's shoulders.

"Not if we hold true to each other," he told them. "We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left." Aragorn looked over his shoulder to where Falenor stood. Gimli place a hand on Aragorn's arm and nodded slightly.

"Leave all that can be spared behind," Aragorn announced, standing back and clapping Falenor on the shoulder. "We travel light. Let us hunt some Orc!" Gimli looked at Legolas and grinned.

"Yes!" the dwarf laughed, getting a better grip on his axe. Legolas smiled slightly and ran after Aragorn. Gimli followed them and Falenor started to, but turned and looked back through the trees to the north.

"Namarie, braig mellon," (_Goodbye, fierce friend_) he said softly.


	26. 26 Coming into Rohan

**Coming into Rohan**

They had been running day and night without stop over field and fen, rock and grass. And with every step Falenor grew more wary.

"_They called him Blue-Eyed Demon," his father told him. "Never go to Rohan, my son. They will chain you and make you work for them."_

"_Why?" Falenor had asked. "Why would they do that?"_

"_They call themselves Horse-lords," Fanduin sneered. "They claim dominion over all equines. They would not stop at procuring Anduin's talents, they would not hesitate at yours. No, my son, never go to Rohan."_

Aragorn had stopped up ahead and lain on the ground, pressing his ear to the stone.

"Their pace has quickened," the ranger announced. "They must have caught our scent."

"Come on Gimli!" Legolas shouted over his shoulder. The dwarf was having trouble keeping up with the three long-legged men. Gimli followed now, using his axe as a walking stick of some sort and grumbling heavily to himself.

Falenor was used to running longer than most Men, and sometimes longer than Elves. He had sometimes had to run after the Rhaw Nur when they were startled by lightning into a stampede. Occasionally his mare had been among them, and he had not been able to call to her. So he had learned to run far and fast as a boy, especially after his father had been jailed.

But they had been running three nights, with no food and little water. Falenor had occasionally passed around the wood sorrel leaves, telling his companions to chew them slowly and not to swallow them. It was not that the leaves were poisonous, he just didn't have a lot of them. If not for the sorrel, they would have collapsed by the second day.

Falenor nimbly picked his way down a rocky slope. He was so fast that he even managed to pass Aragorn and make the valley below before any of them. He smiled wryly to himself as he waited at the bottom. The Rhaw Nur were hill ponies, used to rocky terrain where the ground was more likely to slip out from under you than to stay put.

When Aragorn reached the valley he bent down to scout the ground. The ranger picked something up and brushed off some debris.

"Not idly to the leaves of Lorien fall," he said, showing the Elven brooch to Legolas and Falenor.

"They may yet be alive," Legolas said, but doubt was in his voice. Falenor took the brooch from Aragorn and turned it over.

"Torn from their cloak," he said, fingering the green cloth there. "With their teeth."

"How do you know?" Legolas asked heavily.

"I've had more than one horse eat tack," the drover told him. He examined the cloth carefully. "Hobbit teeth, not Uruk."

"Less than a day ahead of us," Aragorn said, reading the tracks on the ground. "Come!" Gimli tripped and fell down the hill into the valley with a grunting roll. He picked himself up and groaned to see the three already moving ahead.

"Come Gimli!" Legolas shouted encouragingly. "We are gaining on them." Aragorn ran ahead, followed closely by Legolas, but Falenor's feet dragged as the two of them crested a hill.

"I'm wasted on cross-country," Gimli grumbled to the drover. "We dwarves are natural sprinters. Very dangerous over short distances." He jogged a little ahead, then turned when he noticed Falenor was not following.

"Something wrong, lad?" he asked. Falenor tossed his head nervously, and pawed the ground with one foot. "Don't start going all horsey on me, Prince!" Gimli rebuked him. Falenor did not smile but he did sprint ahead, running past Gimli and climbing the hill after Aragorn. The dwarf sighed and trotted gamely after him.

As he came to the crest of the hill, the dwarf saw his three companions surveying the land before them.

"Rohan," Aragorn announced, and Falenor winced slightly at the name. "Home of the horse-lords."

"Don't call them that," Falenor said through gritted teeth. Aragorn spared him a sideways glance, then looked back over the plains.

"There's something strange at work here," the ranger said softly. "Some evil gives speed to these creatures, sets its will against us."

"My will cannot be broken," Falenor said quietly, as Legolas went a little way ahead and stood on a rock, gazing out on the hills before them. "Nor can my spirit."

"Legolas!" Aragorn called to the Elf. "What do your elf eyes see?"

"The Uruks turn Northeast," Legolas called back. "They are taking the hobbits to Isengard!"

"Saruman," Aragorn said, his voice soft. "Be swift!" He ran forward and Gimli followed with a sigh. Falenor stood rooted to the spot, staring at the country before him.

"Falenor?" Aragorn called over his shoulder, slowing to stop. The drover's eyes were wild with fright and he stood stiff and unmoving.

"Falenor, come!" Legolas called, gesturing him forward with his bow. Still Falenor did not move. Aragorn and Legolas exchanged a glance, then the Elf turned back and came to stand in front of Falenor.

"Falenor, what's wrong?" he asked, but the drover shook his head and stepped back. "Falenor, come! Think of Merry and Pippin!" The peredhel closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. One hand went into his pocket and clutched the Trumpet of Ilayilia. The other found the brooch of Anduin and held it tightly, so that the points of the star cut into his palm.

A gentle breeze came from the South and blew around Falenor, embracing him in a hug and giving him a slight push forward. Slowly the drover lifted his right foot and stepped over the boarder into Rohan.


	27. 27 Which Concerns Riders and Sugar

**Which Concerns Riders and Sugar**

The next dawn found the three still running over the plains. Falenor would not speak of his actions the day before, and Aragorn did not press the issue. If something was frightening the drover, then he was having a hard enough time going ahead.

"A red sun rises," Legolas said, more to himself than anyone. "Blood has been spilt this night." Aragorn knelt to try and read the tracks of the Uruk-hai when the drum of hoofbeats began to shake the ground. Standing the ranger gestured for his three companions to hide behind a large boulder nearby. Falenor practically dove for the ground.

Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli followed him, listening to the pounding of hooves grow nearer and nearer until a large group of cavalry thundered past them.

The ranger looked at Legolas and stood as the last of the riders passed them. Legolas and Gimli followed him, but Falenor would not come out. Legolas reached down and practically pulled the drover to his feet.

"Riders of Rohan!" Aragorn shouted at the retreating horsemen. "What news from the Mark?" Suddenly Falenor stopped resisting Legolas and instead hurled himself at Aragorn as the riders turned and headed back towards them.

"For the Valar's sake!" the drover hissed, grabbing Aragorn by the shoulders. "Don't tell them my true name!" Before Aragorn could question him, however, the Rohirrim had surrounded them. The riders encircled the four of them, making an impassable wall of horses. As they came to a stop, they lowered spears at them. Aragorn held up his hands in a gesture of peace.

"What business do an elf, two men, and a dwarf have in the Riddermark?" A rider asked, spurring his horse forward. The four turned to look at him, but said nothing. "Speak quickly!" the rider demanded angrily.

"Give me your name, horse-master, and I shall give you mine," Gimli said stubbornly. Aragorn sighed slightly, annoyed by the dwarf's defiance.

"Don't call him that," Falenor said softly, forcing Aragorn to suppress a groan. The rider dismounted and stepped forward. Aragorn put a hand, half restraining and half protecting, on Gimli's shoulder.

"I would cut off your head - _dwarf_ - if it stood but a little higher from the ground," the rider said, looking down his nose at the dwarf.

Legolas aimed an arrow at the captain in a smooth flash of movement. "You would die before your stroke fell!" Aragorn stepped between the Elf and the rider, pushing Legolas's arm down.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn," he told the rider. "This is Gimli, son of Gloin, Legolas, from the Woodland realm, and..." he trailed off, remembering the desperation in Falenor's voice.

"Areneth, son of Neithan," Falenor supplied. Aragorn blinked; Falenor had just told the Rohirrim he was No-name, son of the Wronged.

"We are friends of Rohan and of Theoden, your king," Aragorn said quickly. It seemed that Falenor could not stop a snort from escaping. The rider glared at the drover, slowly taking in his appearance.

"You wore a ring on that finger," he said, pointing toward the pale skin of Falenor's finger.

"Many do," Falenor replied shortly, hiding his hand in one of his pockets.

"Theoden no longer recognizes friend from foe," the rider said, glancing at Falenor when he said _"foe"_. "Not even his own kin." As the rider removed his helmet the Rohirrim withdrew their spears.

"Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over this land," the rider said to Aragorn. "My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished. The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked." The rider gave Legolas a meaningful look as he added, "And everywhere his spies slip past our nets."

"We are no spies," Aragorn assured him. "We track a band of Uruk-hai westward across the plains. They have taken two of our friends captive."

"The Uruks are destroyed," the rider told him. "We slaughtered them during the night."

"But there were two hobbits!" Gimli said desperately. "Did you see two hobbits with them?" The rider looked confused and turned back to Aragorn for an explanation.

"They would be small," the ranger told him, holding his hand about the height of a hobbit. "Only children to your eyes."

"We left none alive," the rider said, shaking his head. "We piled the carcasses and burned them." He pointed to a column of smoke in the distance.

"Dead?" Gimli asked, horrified.

"I am sorry," the rider said with a nod. Legolas bowed his head and rested a hand on Gimli. Aragorn looked toward the smoke, undisguised sorrow in his eyes. Falenor gave a soft moan and closed his eyes. The rider looked at them, and a flash of true pity crossed his eyes. He whistled.

"Hasufel! Arod!" He called. Two horses, a bay and a grey, came through the Rohirrim. "May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters. Farewell." He mounted his horse and looked down at the four.

"Look for you friends, but do not trust the hope," he warned them. "It has forsaken these lands." He turned his horse as though to ride away, but then caught Falenor's arm roughly.

"Watch yourself in the Riddermark, blue eyes," he hissed. "Theoden may not be so far gone as to not recognize you." He let go and sat straight, gesturing to his riders. "We ride north!"

As the Rohirrim galloped away, Aragorn turned and looked at Falenor.

"I think you had better explain yourself, _Areneth,_" he said. "Before we get into more trouble."

"Have you been to Rohan before?" Legolas asked. Falenor shook his head and fingered the star brooch he wore.

"It is best the Rohirrim do not know my lineage," he said softly. "Even if they have already guessed. Anduin the Valiant was not welcome in this land. I doubt I shall be either."

Aragorn mounted the bay and reached out a hand to help Falenor climb up behind him. Falenor took it and swung a leg over the horses back.

"Im lav, gwedir," (_I'm sorry, brother_) he told the horse, patting its flank. "Im delu tath an." (_I hate saddles too._) The horse neighed softly and Falenor smiled slightly.

"What on earth do you know about saddles?" Aragorn asked him, kicking Hasufel into a gallop. Legolas and Gimli came behind them, riding the grey.

"You don't want to know," Falenor said, a grimace obvious in his voice. They rode swiftly, coming soon upon the burning heap of carcasses. Gimli jumped off his horse and went to the pile. The dwarf used his axe to prod through it, coming up with a charred length of leather.

"It's one of their little belts," he said, holding it up.

"Hiro hyn hidh ab wanath," (_May they find peace in _death_) _Legolas said, bowing his head and closing his eyes. Falenor turned and buried his face in the black mane of Hasufel and the horse whickered comfortingly.

Aragorn kicked an orc helmet and sent it flying. He gave a yell of pain and dropped to his knees, placing his head in his hands.

"We failed them," Gimli said softly. Aragorn looked up and some tracks caught his attention.

"A hobbit lay here," he said, fingers tracing over the disturbed ground. "And the other." Aragorn frowned and bent down over the ground. "They crawled." The ranger began to follow the tracks, Legolas and Gimli hurrying after. Falenor looked on, still standing by Hasufel's neck. Arod, the grey horse, came to join him.

"Their hands were bound," Aragorn said softly. Then he picked up a length of cut rope. "Their bonds were cut." He stood and walked over the ground carefully. "They ran over here... and were followed. The tracks lead away from the battle!" He exclaimed, his voice excited and hopeful. "Into... Fangorn Forest."

Aragorn looked up at the tall, densely packed trees. The forest began abruptly a few feet before him, as though some invisible line had been drawn.

"Fangorn!" Gimli breathed. "What madness drove them in there?" Aragorn did not answer, but strode into the darkness of the trees. Legolas followed without hesitation.

Falenor grabbed fistfuls of Arod and Hasufel's manes, leading them closer to the trees. "Deri si, nin gwedir," (_Stay here, my brothers_) he told them softly. "Ethelithon." (_I will come back._) The horses neighed softly and tossed their manes. Falenor smiled at them and pulled a handful of white powder from an inner pocket of his coat.

"Sugar?" Gimli asked, watching the horses lick up the sweet treat. "We've come all this way, through rock and trees, across fen and valley, and you've still got sugar?"

"Of course," Falenor said with a shrug, the horses licking the last of the treat from his hands.

"Well, thank the stars for that!" Gimli grumbled as the drover turned and walked into the woods. "Got to keep track of what's important, haven't we? Uruk-hai attacking and all chaos breaking loose, but at least he's still got sugar!"


	28. 28 The Wild Wood and Meeting of Lords

**The Wild Wood** and **The Meeting of Lords**

They walked beneath the trees in Fangorn forest, the dense foliage making day indistinguishable from night and casting dark shadows upon everything. Gimli tasted some liquid that was smear on a leaf and then spat it out.

"Orc blood!" he growled. Aragorn knelt down and examined a large depression in the earth.

"These are strange tracks," he remarked.

"The air is so close here," Gimli complained, gripping his axe.

"This forest is old," Legolas explained, looking at the thick, twisted trees around them. "Very old. Full of memory... and _anger._" The trees began to groan and creak. Gimli raised his axe, looking through the forest.

"The trees are speaking to each other," Legolas realized, listening to the strange sounds.

"Gimli!" Aragorn said, turning and seeing the dwarf.

"Huh?"

"Lower your axe," Aragorn hissed, gesturing for Gimli to lower his weapon.

"Oh!" As soon as the dwarf put down the axe the sounds subsided a bit, fading into soft moans.

"They have feelings, my friend," Legolas told the dwarf, smiling up at the leaves. "The Elves began it: waking up the trees, teaching them to speak."

"First talking horse, now talking trees," Gimli grumbled. "What do trees have to talk about, hmm? Except the consistency of squirrel droppings."

"Talking horses?" Falenor asked, leaning back against a thick trunk. "What exactly do you think my friends talk of? Hay and oats? They are intelligent, master dwarf. Just because the trees, horses, and wind do not speak in a language you understand does not mean they speak of nothing." Legolas smiled at the drover, then hopped onto a thick root.

"Aragorn, no no ennas!" (_Aragorn, something is out there!_) he warned, gazing between the thick trees. Falenor straightened up, pulling out his dagger and holding two knives in his left hand.

"Man cenich?" (_What do you see?_) Aragorn asked, moving to the Elf's side. Falenor and Gimli followed suit. Legolas's eyes darted to his right.

"The White Wizard approaches," he said softly.

"Do not let him speak," Aragorn commanded them in a whisper. "He will put a spell on us!" The four of them stood still for a moment, fingering their weapons. "We must be quick," Aragorn warned.

They turned to attack, but were blinded as a bright white light shone through the trees. With a yell, Gimli tossed his axe but it was deflected, as was Legolas's arrow. Falenor's knives hit some invisible force and were knocked aside. Aragorn's sword and Falenor's dagger become white hot in their hands, and they were forced to release them with a gasp.

"You are tracking the footsteps of two young hobbits," a voice said from the center of the light. Falenor hesitated, almost recognizing the voice as being familiar.

"Where are they?" Aragorn demanded, using his arm the shield his eyes from the bright light.

"They passed this way, the day before yesterday." Falenor definitely recognized the voice now, although he could not place it. "They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?"

"Who are you?" the ranger asked, squinting at the glowing figure. "Show yourself!" The light dimmed gradually, revealing an old man dressed in white. It was Gandalf.

Legolas fell onto one knee, and Gimli followed him. Falenor blinked, still trying to clear the white spots from his vision, but he did not bow, nor did Aragorn. The drover suspected a trap, someone using Gandalf's form to deceive and trick them.

"It cannot be!" Aragorn breathed.

"Forgive me," Legolas said, his head bowed before the wizard. "I mistook you for Saruman."

"I am Saruman," the white man said. Falenor tensed, slowly inching his hand closer to another hidden blade. "Or rather Saruman as he should have been."

"You fell!" Aragorn argued, staring in disbelief at the wizard.

"Through fire. And water," Gandalf said, nodding. "From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought him, the Balrog of Morgoth. Until at last, I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside. Darkness took me. And I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead, and every day was as long as the life of the earth. But it was not the end. I felt light in me again. I've been sent back until my task is done."

"Gandalf!" Aragorn said, stepping forward to stand before the wizard.

"Gandalf?" the man said, as though confused. "Oh yes. That's what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey. That was my name."

"Gandalf!" Gimli said, overjoyed. Falenor's hand brushed against the hilt of his dagger.

"_I _am Gandalf the White," the wizard said, smiling slightly. "And I come back to you now, at the turn of the tide." He looked at Falenor, his brown eyes sparkling. "I am no illusion, Falenor son of Fanduin." The drover jumped slightly and released the hilt of the dagger, causing Gandalf to chuckle.

"One stage of your journey is over, another begins," Gandalf said, pulling a grey cloak over his white robes. He leaned heavily on his new staff and began to walk through the forest, accompanied by Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, and Falenor. "War has come to Rohan. We must ride to Edoras with all speed."

"Edoras? The is no short distance!" Gimli commented.

"Must we, Gandalf?" Falenor asked, feeling great trepidation.

"I understand your fear, young Falenor," the wizard told him kindly. "It is no small feat for any heir of Calenor to come into Rohan, but you have shown great courage thus far."

"We hear of trouble in Rohan," Aragorn told Gandalf softly. "It goes ill with the king."

"Yes, and it will not be easily cured."

"Then we have run all this way for nothing?" Gimli asked. "Are we to leave those poor hobbits here in this horrid, dark, tree-infested..." The trees rumbled and shook their branches. "I mean charming, quite charming forest," Gimli backpedalled.

"It was more than mere chance that brought Merry and Pippin to Fangorn," Gandalf told them. "A great power has been sleeping here for many long years. The coming of Merry and Pippin will be like the falling of small stones that starts an avalanche in the mountains."

"In one thing you have not changed, dear friend," Aragorn told Gandalf, helping him step over some tangled roots.

"Hmm?"

"You still speak in riddles." The two of them laughed softly, and Falenor smiled slightly. It was true that this wizard's way of speaking was familiar to his old form, and that comforted the drover more than anything his eyes told him.

"A thing is about to happen here that has not happened since the Elder Days," Gandalf announced. "The Ents are going to wake up and find that they are strong."

"Strong?" Gimli asked, sounding slightly frightened. "Oh, that's good."

"So stop your fretting Master Dwarf," Gandalf rebuked him. "Merry and Pippin are quite safe. In fact, they are far safer than you are about to be."

"Thanks, Gandalf," Falenor said, his crooked smile lighting up his face. "You always know how to comfort me."

"This new Gandalf's more grumpy than the old one," Gimli grumbled to Falenor. The drover laughed slightly as they emerged from the trees. Hasufel and Arod were waiting for him there, and they began to snuffle his pockets hopefully as he stood with them.

Gandalf stood and planted his staff firmly beside him. He gave a long piercing whistle that the hills echoed and magnified. A neigh answered him and Falenor turned to see a gleaming white horse gallop across the plains toward them.

"That is one of the Mearas," Legolas said, watching the horse approach. "Unless my eyes are cheated by some spell." The white stallion came to stop in front of Gandalf.

"Shadowfax," the wizard greeted him with a slight bow. "He's the lord of all horses, and has been my friend through many dangers." The mearas allowed the man to come towards him and pat his neck. But then Shadowfax turned from him and came to stand in front of Falenor where he stood between Hasufel and Arod.

Falenor stared at the mearas, who met his blue eyes with his brown ones. The stallion extended one leg and dropped into what could only be a bow. Falenor hesitated for a moment, then bowed deeply in return. It was the meeting of two lords.

The others had watched the silent exchange, a small smile playing around Gandalf's lips. The wizard came and claimed his mount, and he climbed onto Shadowfax's back with help from Falenor. Aragorn mounted Hasufel, and Gimli sat behind Legolas on Arod.

Falenor had turned to climb up behind Aragorn but Shadowfax whinnied questioningly. The drover turned and looked at the stallion, then back at the gelding. He came and placed a hand on Shadowfax's cheek.

"Penarad, mellon nin," (_Someday, my friend_) he told the stallion, then turned and mounted Hasufel.


	29. 29 The BlueEyed Demon and the King

A/N to raxasrules: Correction - Falenor HATES going to Rohan. He is terrified by what he is doing, as you will see in this chapter!

**The Blue-Eyed Demon and The Golden King**

They were galloping over the plain, and had been doing so for almost a week. Something trouble Aragorn, a shadow of a doubt since they had entered Rohan. Since Falenor had begun, in vain, to disguise a terror in his heart.

"You said once that you would not be welcomed in Rohan," Aragorn asked the drover, turning to glance over his shoulder. "Why is that?" For a moment Falenor said nothing, and the ranger began to think he would not answer.

"Have you heard the story of the Blue-Eyed demon?" Falenor asked at last.

"Never," Aragorn pondered the name. He remembered Eomer had called Falenor "blue eyes", uttering the name as a curse.

"It is a Rohan legend," Falenor told him. "Among my family and my people, it is a fact. In the year 2939 Anduin the Valiant came through Rohan on a quest to destroy the shield of Morgoth. When he finally succeeded in that task, or rather, when his companions succeeded, the evil that was unleashed awoke the sleeping power of the Ring where it resided in the depths of the Misty Mountains. But that is another story.

Anduin, like all of my forefathers before me, had blue eyes, the legacy of Tuor. Among the brown-eyed Rohirrim, such eyes were, and still are, uncommon.

The Rohirrim tried to stop Anduin, but his mere presence caused the horses to rebel. They would not approach Anduin, nor any member of his party. When Rohan realized Anduin's power, they tried to detain him. They were unsuccessful, so they set about making plans to capture him and take him to Edoras.

Anduin set a "curse" upon the horses of the Rohirrim. He drove them wild, so that they turned on their masters and fled into the hills surrounding the Falls of Rauros. No Man of Rohan has ever managed to capture their horses from those hills, and their descendants still run free there to this day. I met one of them there, a stallion named Braig."

"You met one?" Aragorn interrupted. "What happened to him?"

"You frightened him away," Falenor told him. "Now, can I finish my story?

My people know that Anduin called upon the spirit of the Merka Fea to save him. The horses were possessed by his spirit and are called the Roch Yassen Faer Uricon.

The people of Rohan called Anduin the Blue-Eyed demon. They tracked him through Gondor, where he evaded their grasp by slipping past close to the boarders of Mordor. From then on, it has been known to my family that if another Heir of Calenor slips into the grasp of Rohan, he will never find his way out."

Aragorn remained silent, mulling this over as Hasufel cantered over the golden grass.

"Then we owe you our thanks," the ranger said at last. "Gandalf was right, you have great courage to come this far into Rohan."

They journeyed north until they came to Edoras. As they looked upon the Golden Halls and the Riddermark, Aragorn could feel Falenor trembling slightly behind him. The ranger clasped Falenor's hand in his own as he gazed up at the city that sprawled upon a hill.

"Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld," Gandalf announced. "There dwells Theoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Theoden is now very strong. Be careful what you say. Do not look for welcome here."

"I wasn't," Falenor said, his voice dry. They spurred the three horses forward and approached the walls of the city. As they came to the gate a flag, ripped from its pole, flapped through the air. It landed, still fluttering feebly, near to Hasufel's hooves.

The gates were opened, but the guards did not speak to them. As they rode up through the city, many of the villagers cast sidelong glances at them. Several women gathered together as they passed, whispering. Aragorn could have sworn he heard one of them say, "Blue-eyes..."

The ranger looked up at the Golden Hall and saw a pale woman standing there, watching them. She was clothed in a white dress and when she saw Aragorn look at her, she turned and vanished into the hall.

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard," Gimli remarked as they came to the steps of the hall. They all dismounted, and Falenor spoke softly to the horses, bidding them to stay. The five of them turned and climbed the stairs, Gandalf leaning heavily on his staff.

A company of guards came out of the hall and stopped them. "I cannot allow you before theoden king so armed, Gandalf Greyhame. By order of... Grima Wormtongue," a red haired guard informed them. Gandalf nodded, and Aragorn, Legolas, GImli, and Falenor began to disarm.

Aragorn had his sword, knife, bow, and quiver to give up. Legolas yielded his two swords, bow and arrows to the guards. With a hesitant pause, Gimli handed over his axe. Falenor had the most to relinquish.

He pulled the dagger from his hip and the sabers from his back. Then he bent down and pulled two knives from his boots. He surrendered the knives he kept hidden at his wrists to the guard, who by now looked slightly overwhelmed.

Falenor held up a hand for them to wait and then pulled two small knives from the sheaths he kept hidden under his armpits. He handed these to the guard with an expert flip and shrugged. Gandalf cleared his throat slightly. The drover sighed softly and then pulled a long dagger from a sheath hidden under his shirt at the small of his back.

Some of the guards had an almost amused look on their faces as their companion struggled to keep a hold on the ten blades Falenor had given up. The captain arched an eyebrow, but then turned back to Gandalf.

"Your staff," he demanded.

"Eh?" Gandalf asked. "Oh. No, you would not part an old man from his walking stick?" The guard considered this for a moment, and gave Gandalf a knowing look and allowed the five of them to pass through the doors.

Gandalf winked and took Legolas's arm, allowing the Elf to lead him into the hall.

"How many knives do you need, drover?" Aragorn asked, stepping into place beside Falenor. The peredhel said nothing, but flashed a crooked smile at him.

The doors banged shut behind them with an ominous thud. The interior of the hall was shadowed, and at the far end sat an elderly, wizened man in a throne. A greasy black-haired man knelt at the king's side, whispering into his ear.

"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Theoden King," Gandalf's voice echoed through the pillared chamber. Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, and Falenor turned slightly at the sound of footsteps. The guards were following close behind them.

"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf... Stormcrow?" Theoden wheezed. The greasy man nodded to the king, stepping away from his throne.

"A just question my liege," he said, his voice as thick and sweet as honey. Grima Wormtongue stood and walked down the center of the hall towards them.

"_Late_ is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear," he sneered. "Lathspell I name him. Ill news is in ill guest."

"Be silent!" Gandalf snapped at Wormtongue. "Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!" The wizard raised his staff menacingly.

"His staff!" Wormtongue rasped, backing away in fear. "I _told_ you to take the wizard's staff!" The guards rushed forward, but Legolas, Aragorn, Falenor, and Gimli moved to block them. They fought hand and fist, striking down the guards to give Gandalf a free passage to Theoden.

One of the king's guards moved to draw his sword, but the guard who had allowed them through the doors stopped him.

"Theoden, Son of Tengel," Gandalf thundered, seemingly oblivious of the fighting around him. A guard jumped into the wizard's path, sword drawn. Falenor tackled the man, sending him tumbling to the ground where the drover held him pinned. "Too long have you sat in the shadows."

Gimli had knocked Wormtongue down and placed a heavy foot on the gasping man's chest.

"I would stay still if I were you," the dwarf advised him grimly.

"Harken to me!" Gandalf said, raising a hand. "I release you from the spell." Everything was quiet for a moment. The guard under Falenor stirred slightly and the peredhel gave him a hard punch.

"You have no power here Gandalf the Grey," Theoden wheezed a crackling laugh. Suddenly Gandalf threw aside his grey cloak, revealing his white robes beneath. Theoden leaned back into his throne, stunned by the brightness of the wizard's garments.

"I will draw you Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound," the Istar announced, advancing forward with his staff before him. Theoden squirmed in his throne, gripping the arm rests. The white lady Aragorn had seen from the village rushed forward and tried to go to the king, but Aragorn grabbed her arm and restrained her.

"Wait," he told her, staring at the struggling king.

"If I go - Theoden _dies_," the king's lips moved, but it was not his voice that spoke. Gandalf jabbed his staff at Theoden, causing the king to be thrown back against his throne.

"You did not kill me," the wizard said coldly. "You will not kill him."

"Rohan is mine!" the voice said again.

"Be gone!" Gandalf thundered. Theoden jumped up at the Istar with a yell, but he fell back once more with a groan. The white lady struggled and slipped from Aragorn's grasp. She rushed to Theoden and caught him as he began to slip from his throne. The king's face was changing, so that he seemed to travel backwards in time with great speed. Finally a golden haired, middle-aged man blinked and stared at the lady.

"I know your face," he rasped, his voice hoarse as though from lack of use. "Eowyn - Eowyn." The lady smiled, delighted, and placed a hand on her uncle's face.

"Gandalf?" the king asked, turning to look at the wizard, his brown eyes puzzled to see the Istar there.

"Breathe the free air again, my friend," Gandalf said.

"Who are these?" Theoden asked, his eyes turning over Legolas, Gimli, Falenor and Aragorn.

"May I present Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Gimli, son of Gloin, Falenor, heir of Calenor, and Legolas of the Woodland realm." Falenor winced as Gandalf said his true name. He had not told the wizard that he wished to remain anonymous. Theoden,however, did not seem to register anything the wizard said.

"Dark have been my dreams of late," Theoden sighed, standing up shakily.

"Your fingers would remember their old strength better - if they grasped your sword," Gandalf suggested. Something under Falenor heaved slightly and the drover looked down to see the guard still pinned beneath him.

"Oh. Sorry, friend," he said, standing up and helping the guard to his feet as the captain of the king's guard presented Theoden with his sword.

The king fingered its hilt, then drew it and looked along its steel length. Suddenly his eyes fell on Wormtongue, who was cowering nearby, his robes fixed in Gimli's grasp. Theoden snarled and advanced on the cowering servant. He grabbed a fistful of the greasy man's robes and hauled him down the hall. Kicking open the doors he tossed Wormtongue unceremoniously down the stairs.

"I have only ever served you my lord!" Wormtongue yelled as he rolled to a stop at the bottom of the steps.

"Your leechcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!" the king snarled, coming down the steps, Gandalf close behind. Many of the guards went also, along with Aragorn, but Falenor remained at the door of the hall.

"Send me not from your side!" Wormtongue begged, his voice high and frightened. Theoden raised his sword with a yell, but Aragorn ran forward and stopped him.

"No my lord!" He said, seizing the king's arms. Theoden turned and blinked blankly at the ranger. "No my lord. Let him go. Enough blood has been spilt on his account." Aragorn turned and offered his hand to Wormtongue, who spat on it. The man turned and ran through the crowd, shoving them out of his way.

"Hail, Theoden, King!" Aragorn shouted, sinking into a kneel. The crowd followed him, everyone bowing low except for Gandalf and Falenor. Luckily the king did not notice the drover, but turned and looked through his court.

"Where is Theodred?" he asked, not seeing the young man. "Where is my son?" No one answered him.


	30. 30 Songs of the Outlaw

A/N: The song is based off of "The Escape of Old John Webb" by Tom Drake.

**Songs of the Outlaw**

Falenor tossed his head uncomfortable. The only thing more uncomfortable than being at a funeral for a young man is being at a funeral for someone you have considered your enemy, but who know looks so innocent in death.

The Rohirrim were gathered, as were the villagers and all of the court. Falenor kept his head bowed, hoping to avoid attention. He stood behind Legolas and Aragorn as Theodred's body was carried past.

"_He can't be any older than me," _he thought, watching the men carry the fallen prince. They were taking his body to his tomb on a bier made of shields and spears and the young warrior still clasped his shield to his chest in death. Eowyn, the king's niece, was there, her hair bound elegantly in a bun and a golden band across her forehead. She was singing softly, but in her voice Falenor could hear no echo of Nellas of Caleyn's voices.

The Rohirrim were passing Theodred's body over to the women of the court, who carried it into the tomb with silent weeping.

The crowd began to disperse, leaving the grieving king alone with Gandalf. Falenor could feel many eyes upon him, looking over his short cropped hair and bright blue eyes. Whispers of "Blue-Eyed demon," came from all around.

"What did you call him?" Legolas asked angrily, hearing the women's whispers as they walked into the village.

"Nothing," the woman lied quickly.

"I thought you said Blue-Eyed demon," Legolas said, practically spitting out the phrase. The women shifted uncomfortably in the Elf's angry gaze.

"Legolas," Falenor said, placing a restraining hand on the Elf's shoulder. "It means nothing..."

"He is the Blue-Eyed demon," an old man croaked, glaring at the drover and pointing a crooked finger at his eyes. "I'd recognize him anywhere! I was there - I was there the day he used his dark sorcery."

"I can assure you, _old man_," Falenor sneered. "That I have never set foot in Rohan before this year."

"Lies!" the accuser croaked. "You cursed my horse! Beauty tried to kill me... Beauty! After I raised her from a foal!"

"How dare you accuse the Prince of lying!" Legolas said, reaching for one of the arrows he had recently reclaimed.

"Legolas! Falenor!" Aragorn yelled, stepping between them and the old man.

"Demon!" the man began to scream, pointing at Falenor. "Witchcraft! Dark magic!"

"That's enough!" Aragorn shouted, turning to glare at the man. "Stop! Return to your homes!" he commanded the crowd who had gathered. They slowly obeyed, but many of them still glared suspiciously at Falenor as they left.

The two children tore hungrily into the bread given to them. Eowyn knelt by the little girl's side, stroking her hair. The boy sat on Falenor's lap, greedily slurping up soup.

"Slowly, little rider," Falenor told him. Falenor had immediately taken to the children, who had been fascinated by the strange man who spoke to their horse. The boy grinned at Falenor and made a big show of slowing down.

"They had no warning," Eowyn told her uncle, standing up. "They were unarmed. Now the Wildmen are moving through the westfold, burning as they go, every rick, cot and tree."

"Where's mama?" the little girl demanded of Eowyn. The lady hushed her and placed a blanket over her narrow shoulders.

"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash," Gandalf told Theoden, gesturing toward the children. "All the more potent for he is driven mad by the fear of Sauron." The little girl had begun to cry. Falenor put aside her brother and lifted the girl, Freda, into his arms. He began to sing softly for her as the men continued to talk.

"There were nine to guard the Dor-lomin ranks,

And five to guard the town above,

And two to stand at either hand,

And one to let Bill Tenner out.

There was eighty weight of Elvish iron,

Between his neckbone and his knee,

But Billy took Johnny under his arm

And lugged him away right manfully." He sang. Freda had stopped crying and listened with wide eyes.

"Ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children. You must fight," Gandalf was arguing to Theoden.

"And Billy broke locks,

And Billy broke bolts,

And Billy broke all that he came nigh,

Until he came to the dungeon door,

And that he broke right manfully."

"You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak," Aragorn joined in, smoking his pipe at another table. "Eomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king."

"So they stole them a horse,

And away did ride,

And who but they rode gallantly?

Until they came to the river bank,

To the river runnin' wild and free!

The Dor-lomins were coming

Close on their heels

And who but they stood fearfully?

Till Billy took Johnny up on his back

And carried him over it easily."

"They will be three hundred leagues from here by now!" Theoden was saying. He had left his throne and was pacing nearby. "Eomer cannot help us."

"And Billy broke locks,

And Billy broke bolts,

And Billy broke all that he came nigh,

Until he came to the dungeon door,

And that he broke right manfully."

"I know what it is that you want of me," Theoden said softly, turning to look at Gandalf. But I would not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."

"Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not," Aragorn argued.

"So they called at the inn

For a room to dance

And who but they danced merrily?

And the very best dancer among them all

Was old John Webb who was just set free!"

Theoden walked slowly toward Aragorn, glaring at the younger man. "When last I looked, Theoden, not Aragorn, was king of Rohan. And for the gods' sakes, stop that insufferable song!" He yelled at Falenor. The drover shrugged and tousled the boy's, Eothain's, hair.

Gimli, oblivious as usual, belched loudly, making the children laugh.

"Then what is the king's decision?" Gandalf asked. Freda was tugging Falenor's sleeve and he bent down.

"What happened to Billy and Johnny?" she asked, stumbling over the unusual names. Falenor grinned slightly.

"Well, their horse was so fast and the river so wide," he told the children. "That the two outlaws escaped. And nothing the king of Dor-lomin could do," he said, glancing up at Theoden who was pacing a few feet away. "Could stop them." Theoden glared at the drover, gritting his teeth.

"We ride to Helm's Deep," the king announced.


	31. 31 Horse Magic

**Horse Magic**

"By order of the King, the city must empty," Hama read out the proclamation. "We make for the refuge of Helm's Deep. Do not burden yourself with treasures. Take only what provisions you need."

"Helm's Deep!" Gimli grumbled as he, Gandalf, Falenor, Legolas, and Aragorn walked through the city to the stables. "They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight. Who will defend them if not their king?"

"He is only doing what he thinks is best for his people," Aragorn said as they entered the stables. "Helm's Deep has saved them in the past."

Falenor shrugged; he had just barely disentangled himself from Freda and Eothain, who had wanted him to sing more songs. "Fight or flight," he told the dwarf. "It makes sense to me."

"There is no way out of that ravine," Gandalf said. "Theoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he is leading them to safety, but what he'll get is a massacre." The wizard turned and glared at Falenor. "I blame you."

"Me?" the drover asked adopting an innocent expression. "Why me?"

"For that stupid outlaw song!" Gandalf told him. "You knew it would anger Theoden and still you sang it!" Falenor shrugged, but smiled slightly.

"I suppose Theoden looks funny when he's angry?" Legolas asked the drover, who grinned broadly.

"Theoden has a strong hold but I fear for him," Gandalf continued. "I fear for the survival of Rohan. He will need you before the end, Aragorn. The people of Rohan will need you. The defenses have to hold."

"They will hold," Aragorn assured him. Gandalf turned to Shadowfax and stroked the stallion's mane.

"The Grey Pilgrim," the Istar recalled. "That is what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of men I've walked this earth and now, I have no time." Falenor went to Shadowfax's head and held him steady as Gandalf mounted the stallion.

"Good luck," the wizard told them. "My search will not be in vain. Look to my coming, at first light, on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the East."

"Noro lim, mellon nin, noro lim," (_Run fast, my friend, run fast_) Falenor whispered to Shadowfax, who tilted his ears forward and nodded his great head. Aragorn held open the stall door and the mearas jumped out and galloped from the stable and through the gates of Edoras.

Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn turned to leave the stables. Falenor watched them go, leaning against the wall of Shadowfax's stall. Here, among the horses, he was accepted and loved as a friend. Out in the village and court, Falenor knew that he would be greeted with glares and suspicion.

Suddenly a horse reared, thrashing the air with its hooves. Two men had tied ropes around the gelding's neck and they pulled on these, trying to bring the horse down. Falenor frowned and approached the frightened horse.

"That horse is half mad, my lord," one of the men told him. "There's nothing you can do. Leave him." Falenor gestured for the two men to stand aside and he approached the stallion slowly. The horse shied slightly, but his ears twitched forward at the sound of Falenor's voice.

"Avorn, sedho si, avorn, sedho si," (_Fast, quiet now, fast, quiet now_) he told the gelding. Slowly he untied the ropes from the horse's neck. The two men backed away swiftly, as though expecting the horse to attack them. "Auth herio, gwedir nin." (_A battle is stirred up, my brother._) Gently Falenor unbuckled the stallion's halter and let it fall to the ground.

"Man eneth?" (_What is your name_) he asked the horse, who stilled and allowed Falenor to stroke his cheek. "Huh? What's your name then?"

"His name is Brego," the Lady Eowyn had come into the stables without Falenor noticing. "He was my cousin's horse." The drover pulled an apple, stolen from the kitchen, out of his pocket and allowed Brego to lip it up.

"Brego? Eneth ernin," (_Your name is kingly_) he told the stallion. He began to walk around the stallion, stooping to feel the length of Brego's legs, checking for any hurts. Brego was a dark bay, so brown he was almost black. "Man le trasta, Brego? Man cenich?" (_What troubles you, Brego? What did you see?_)

"I've heard of the magic of Elves," Eowyn said, approaching. Falenor stood and ran his hand along the stallion's white blaze. "But I did not look for it in a drover from the North. You speak as one of their own."

"I am their own," he told the lady. "Or half. But I am a horseman, and they trust me as their kin. I do not work magic." Falenor turned and lead Brego away gently. The stallion trampled the halter beneath his hooves as he followed the drover out of the stable. "I will turn this fellow free. He has seen enough of war," he told Eowyn.

"I do not think my uncle would approve," Eowyn told him. Falenor froze and met Brego's eyes. In them he saw the same fear and desperation he himself felt.

"Then I will at least take him outside the city walls," the drover told the lady. "These stables suffocate him."


	32. 32 Eledhwen and Eowyn

**Eledhwen and Eowyn**

The villagers were preparing to depart. As they waited for Theoden, Falenor stood among the horses. Already they had learned to look to him for treats and soft words. The Rohirrim seemed to give Falenor their gruff approval, although they accused him of spoiling their horses.

"My lord?" Falenor turned and saw Eowyn walking toward him.

"Please, don't call me that," he told her.

"But you are a prince, are you not?" the lady insisted. "I have heard the people say your friend called you that." Falenor grimaced.

"Please, just Master Falenor," the drover begged.

"My uncle wishes you to ride Brego," Eowyn told him.

"I think I made my opinion of Brego perfectly clear," Falenor said, looking over toward where the gelding was gazing.

"The king... demands it," Eowyn said hesitantly. "I think it is best that you obey him. The villagers already whisper of you..." Falenor sighed and gave a sharp whistle. Brego trotted up to him, weaving between the Rohirrim.

"Should I get you a saddle?" One of the men asked, eyeing the bay warily. Falenor did not reply but swung up onto Brego's back without the aid of stirrup or mounting block.

"Rinc, Brego," (_Go, Brego_) Falenor told the gelding, who placidly walked away. Behind him was a stunned silence, then loud guffaws of laughter.

"He tames wild horses!" One of them laughed.

As they rode, Falenor led Brego away from the line of refugees. The Rohirrim stared, the villagers glared, and the king frowned. Aragorn rode with the king, so Falenor could not ride with him. Eowyn walked next to Gimli among the villagers, so he could not go with them. And Legolas... the Elf went where he would.

"_You're lonely, my king," _Brego told him. _"Or afraid...?"_

"Ereb, u'presta," (_Lonely, not afraid_) Falenor replied. It was a lie, but a rider should never let his horse know he is frightened, nor should a king let his people see his fear.

"_Is there a she-human?" _Brego asked, twitching his ears slightly. Falenor laughed, causing many to turn and stare at him. He quieted swiftly, and explained softly to the gelding about Eledhwen.

"Im ereb an e," (_I am lonely for her_) he told Brego. "U'ui lye said." (_Never have we been parted_).

"_I don't understand," _Brego admitted. Falenor smiled slightly; no, he didn't think a gelding would understand love. _"But I miss my master." _

"Theodred... min Mandos," (_Theodred... is in Mandos_) Falenor tried to comfort the bay.

"_Then I will never see him again," _Brego said sadly. _"For when I die, I will go to the fields of Orome."_

"Im u'istas man thel abguruth," (_I do not know what will happen after death_) he told the bay. "Nan'im gwesto, tirale Theodred ad." (_But I swear, you will see Theodred again_). He looked at where Gimli was riding, not even bothering to hold Arod's reins. "Si, ammen gelir." (_Now, let's have some fun_).

Brego's swiveled his ears in Arod's directing and nodded his head. The gelding came up closer to the grey so that Falenor was barely within earshot.

"Arod!" Falenor clucked softly. The grey perked its ears and set off at a trot. Gimli gave a yelp as he rolled from the horse's back.

"It's all right!" the dwarf called, struggling to stand. "It's all right. Nobody panic. That was deliberate. That _was_ deliberate." Falenor laughed and Brego gave a whinny of amusement. Gimli managed to stand and he glared at the drover.

"You! I should have known," he growled good-naturedly. "Just because you can ride around bare-back doesn't mean you should call our horses out from underneath us!" Eowyn laughed as she dusted Gimli off. She smiled at Falenor who blushed slightly and looked down at Brego's mane.

"_Maybe you should tell _her_ about Eledhwen," _the gelding suggested, tossing his dark black mane.

They had stopped beside a stream to rest for a bit, and Falenor sat beside Brego. The gelding was taking deep drinks from the water, occasionally pausing to playfully flick drops of water at Falenor with his muzzle.

"Would you like some stew?" Eowyn asked the drover. Falenor looked up and saw Aragorn sitting a little way away, shaking his head desperately.

"I suppose it won't kill me," Falenor said, accepting a bowl from Eowyn. She waited for him to try it, and he lifted the spoon towards his lips. He cringed slightly at the taste.

"Is it really that bad?" Eowyn asked, laughing.

"Well, it didn't kill me," the drover said. He spotted a long-stemmed plant growing near the water's edge. He bent down and pluck a few of the leaves, leaving behind the red flowers.

"Sour weed," he told Eowyn. "Is tart, but it just might save this stew. And your reputation." The lady giggled softly as Falenor added the leaves to the stew. He stirred it for a moment and then lifted the spoon for Eowyn to try. She did, her eyes widening at the tangy flavor.

"You are truly gifted, Master Falenor," she told him.

"Ah, yes," he smiled. "I strive always to be a better cook." Eowyn laughed, thinking of the knife-wielding drover cooking stew with the women.

"Aragorn says that you are one of the Dunedain," the lady said. "And blessed with a long life. Is that true? Aragorn says he is eighty-seven, though he looks to be merely thirty! And you? Are you older than you look?"

"How old do I look?" Falenor asked hesitantly. Eowyn blushed, the pink startling on her pale face.

"If I must be honest," she mumbled. "You look no more than seventeen."

"I am twenty-two," Falenor told her. Something about this answer seemed to please Eowyn, and she sat down next to him, holding her stew pot. She plucked a few of the sour weed's leaves and added them to her stew as she spoke.

"Forgive me, but I notice that you are clean-shaven always," she said shyly. "Is that because you are an Elf?"

"Half-Elf," the drover corrected her, helping to stir the leaves into the stew.

"What does that mean, 'Half-Elf'?" Eowyn asked. "Will you someday grow as old as Aragorn, and still look seventeen?"

"No, I will not," he said softly. "For legend says that my people have the blood of horses in our veins. The line of Calenor is doomed to be a short-lived one. A horse will pass from this life in twenty-five or thirty years. Few in my family live beyond that age."

"I am sorry," Eowyn said softly. "I did not know." She stood to leave, taking the stew with her.

"Eowyn?" Falenor called after her. She turned and looked back at him. "I do not fear death."

"What do you fear, Master Falenor?"

"A cage," he said softly. Something in Eowyn's face changed slightly and she bent over him. She placed a soft kiss on the drover's head and walked away.


	33. 33 The Wolves of Isengard

A/N: The song is "What Have They Done" by Malvina Reynolds

**The Wolves of Isengard**

"Falenor! Falenor!" Freda called, running up to walk beside Brego. She held out her arms and Falenor lifted her up on the horse. Eothain was not far behind, and Falenor helped him up to sit behind his sister.

"Will you tell us a story?" Eothain asked. "Freda wouldn't shut up about it, so I brought her to you."

"That's not true!" the girl pouted. "You wanted to hear a story too!"

"How about a song?" Falenor asked.

"That's good, too," Eothain said quickly. Then he quickly added on, "If that's okay with you." Falenor smiled and began to sing.

"Just a little rain falling all around

The grass lifts its head to the heavenly sound

Just a little rain, just a little rain

What have they done to the rain?

Just a little boy standing in the rain

The gentle rain that falls for years

And the grass is gone and the boy disappears

And the rain keeps falling like heavenly tears

And what have they done to the rain?

Just a little breeze out of the sky

The leaves nod their heads as the breeze blows by

Just a little breeze with some smoke in its eyes

And what have they done to the rain?"

When Falenor finished Freda clapped her hands.

"That was all right," Eothain told Falenor. "But I wanted to hear something about an adventure! With outlaws and bandits - like you!"

"Outlaws and bandits?" Falenor asked. "Where on earth did you get this idea about me?"

"The dwarf told us you steal horses!" Eothain said, excited.

"Hmm, did he now?" the drover asked. "Listen carefully, I don't want you telling anyone..."

"Wargs! We're under attack!" Aragorn shouted, running over a hill. All around the villagers began to panic.

"All riders to the head of the column!" Theoden ordered. Falenor grabbed Eothain and put him on the ground.

"I can fight!" The boy yelled.

"Take your sister and get to Helm's Deep!" the drover told him, passing Freda down to him. "You will be safe there."

"I don't want to be safe!" Eothain argued. "I want to be like you!"

"When I was your age," Falenor told him. "I obeyed my elders!" Eothain sulked slightly, but did not protest as he and Freda were swept up into the flow of villagers. Falenor grabbed Brego's mane.

"Noro, Brego!" (_Run, Brego!_) he told the bay. The horse turned and galloped up the slope after Theoden. Legolas stood at the crest of the hill, shooting down wargs as they approached. When Arod thundered past him the Elf swung himself into the saddle behind Gimli.

Falenor drew one of his knives and sent it whirling ahead of him. It struck an orc rider, sending it crashing to the ground. The drover barely had time to draw his saber before the horses clashed with the wargs.

Brego fought bravely, using teeth and hooves to strike out at those who came to close. When a warg tried to take a bite of the gelding's flank, Falenor stabbed it in the shoulder with his saber. He drew a dagger and parried the blow of a mounted orc. The warg and Brego were running side by side, each trying to take bites from each other.

Falenor brought up his dagger and it clashed against the orc's sword. They were nearing the edge of a cliff.

"Thala! Thala si!" (_Steady! Steady now!_) Falenor warned Brego, whose hooves skidded slightly on the rock. The drover engaged the orc again, distracting him from steering his mount. The cliff drew closer and closer, but still Falenor fought with the orc.

"Si!" (_Now!_) he yelled suddenly to Brego. The gelding turned at the last moment and galloped along the cliff. The warg and its riders were not quick enough; they tumbled over the cliff and into the river below.

Falenor jumped from Brego's back, and he hit the ground in a somersault, coming up with two more knives in one hand. An orc was coming up behind Legolas. Falenor threw the knives, sending them spinning through the air and landing hilt deep in the orc's back.

The drover turned just in time to catch an axe's blow with his dagger. He and the orc struggled for a moment, each trying to over power the other. Falenor reached up and pulled out his saber. He slashed at his opponent with it, but the orc jumped back, disengaging his axe from Falenor.

The peredhel lunged forward, stabbing the orc in its abdomen. As it fell, the orc brought down its axe. The blow that would have cut off Falenor's hand was deflected; the steel knife he wore on his forearm rang out as the axe bounced off it.

Another orc came at Falenor. He lifted his saber and held it out in front of him, ready to defend. It was an archaic style of fighting, taught to him by his father. His sword clashed against the orc's iron blade several times, parries and thrusts lost in a blur of swordplay. Falenor shifted his feet slightly, adjusting to get the better footing.

Suddenly the orc lunged, but Falenor leapt out of its way and struck its side. He was rewarded by a gush of black blood that darkened the silver blade of his sword. The orc turned, raising its sword with a snarl.

A spear sprouted out of its chest and it dropped. Falenor blinked and lowered his weapon, looking around. They fighting had almost completely stopped. He alone had still struggled with an opponent after all other enemies were dead. Gamling, one of the king's guard, nodded to Falenor. It was he who had thrown the spear.

"You fight well," the soldier told him. "But I did not recognize your style."

"It was fencing," the drover told him, kneeling down to clean his blade on a patch of grass. "I do not like to use it, but when I must..." He shrugged, sheathing the saber as he did so. Falenor stood and looked around. Brego was nearby, waiting for him. Legolas was helping Gimli out from what looked like two wargs. The Elf turned and smiled to see Falenor, but his eyes searched someone else out.

"Where is Aragorn?" Falenor asked.

"I have not seen him," Gamling said. Falenor went to retrieve his other blades, cleaning and re-sheathing them, but all the while calling the ranger's name.

"Aragorn? Aragorn!" He came near to Gimli, who had spotted a dying, laughing orc on the ground.

"Tell me what happened and I will ease your passing!" the dwarf threatening, pointing his axe at the orc's throat.

"He's... dead," the orc laughed between coughs. "He took a little tumble off the cliff."

"You lie!" Legolas snarled, seizing the orc roughly. The orc laughed once more, blood bubbling from its mouth, before it fell back dead. Legolas began to stand, but he saw the Evenstar clutched in the orc's hand. The Elf pried the jewel from the orc and glanced at the nearby cliff.

Falenor, Gimli, and Legolas came to stand at the edge, looking over into the river below. Theoden came and stood behind them.

"Get the wounded on horses," the king ordered his men. "The wolves of Isengard will return. Leave the dead." Legolas turned and glared at Theoden.

"Come," the king ordered him. Legolas and Gimli looked once more over the cliff, then turned away. Falenor went to Brego, who was pawing the ground nervously.

"Carole carth im, mellon nin?" (_Will you do something for me, my friend?_) he asked the gelding. Brego nodded slightly. "Tog e im, cuin egor fern." (_Bring him to me, alive or dead_). The gelding snorted softly, mouthed Falenor's black hair, then turned and trotted away, following the course of the river.

"We could have used him," Theoden told the drover, nodding towards where a few injured men sat. Falenor looked at him.

"I will not give up hope," he told the king. "He is called Estel for a reason."


	34. 34 Hope in Helm's Deep

**Hope in Helm's Deep**

Falenor led Hasufel up the long ramp into Helm's Deep. The bay carried a man whose arm had been bitten off by warg, and Hasufel wasn't happy. He shied at the scent of the blood coming from his rider.

"Shh, sidh tithen gwedir," (_Shh, peace little brother_) Falenor told the bay.

"_But, my king, he smells!" _Hasufel protested.

"Ammen neva, fael pin annan," (_We are near, just a little longer_) the drover sighed. He looked back over his shoulder, hoping to see Brego following behind with Aragorn smiling and unhurt on his back.

"Make way for the king!" a guard shouted as the riders entered the stronghold. "Make way for Theoden. Make way for the king!" Eowyn hurried down a staircase to meet them. She looked at Falenor and frowned to see that Brego was not with him.

"So few," she breathed, looking at her uncle. "So few of you have returned."

"Our people are safe," Theoden told her. "We have paid for it with many lives." Eowyn turned to look at Falenor, but he avoided her gaze. Instead Gimli walked over to her, for once not wearing his helmet.

"My lady..." the dwarf began, but seemed to be overwhelmed with grief.

"Lord Aragorn, where is he?" Eowyn asked.

"He fell..." Eowyn gasped and looked at Theoden in disbelief. The king glanced back at her, but said nothing to her.

"Draw all our forces behind the wall," Theoden commanded the guards. "Bar the gate, and set a watch on the surround."

"What about Brego?" Falenor asked, meeting the king's gaze defiantly.

"It is not my fault you sent the horse away," Theoden said.

"What of those who cannot fight my lord?" the guard asked. "The women and children?"

"Get them into the caves. Saruman's arm would have grown long indeed if he thinks he can reach us here."

"Falenor!" Freda and Eothain pushed their way through the crowd, running to the drover. Falenor dropped to one knee and embraced the two of them tightly, burying his face in Freda's long blond hair.

"I_ told_ her you'd come back!" Eothain said proudly. A woman who had followed the children stood a little way back, shy around so many soldiers.

"My boy told me what you have done for them," she told the drover. "I wanted to thank you... they admire you so much."

"They are good children," Falenor said, standing up and taking the woman's hand in both of his own. She smiled and, taking her children's hands, went with the other women into the caves.

"Falenor?" Eowyn asked. She had been hovering nearby, listening to the meeting. The drover turned slowly, pain in his eyes. He opened his arms slightly and Eowyn rushed into them without a second thought.

"Is he really gone?" She asked, finding comfort in the man's arms. Falenor took her face in one of his hands and brushed her honey-gold hair from her eyes.

"I cannot believe so," he told her. "I will not. Hope is... it is all we have left, my lady." Falenor stepped back and gave her a slight bow. "Forgive me, I was forward." Then he turned and walked up the staircase to the keep. Legolas was waiting for him, a slight smirk playing around his lips.

Aragorn had washed ashore, unconscious. In his dream he thought he felt Arwen kiss him gently.

"May the grace of the Valar be with you," she had whispered. If it wasn't for the pain that throbbed in his head and stabbed through his shoulder, this would have been a very good dream.

Something was nudging him. Aragorn turned on his uninjured side and hoped whatever it was would go away. It didn't, but continued persistently pushing him until he opened his eyes. Black fetlocks swam into view. A large brown nose sniffed his face worriedly. It was Brego, Falenor's gelding.

The horse knelt once it seemed satisfied that Aragorn was awake. With a groan, the ranger grabbed a fistful of black mane and, fighting the pain that threatened to send him screaming, pulled himself onto the horse's back.

Brego stood slowly, careful not to disturb his rider. The gelding turned and walked westward. Aragorn slumped over the horse's black mane, exhausted and wounded.

A golden light gleamed along Brego's neck. It was dawn. Aragorn must have slept through the afternoon and the night. He had lost much time. The others would be at Helm's Deep by now. He nudged the gelding slightly and urged him into a gently trot.

Brego came over a rise and whinnied softly, pawing the ground. Aragorn wished he had Falenor's gift so that he could understand what the horse was trying to tell him. He glanced up and looked at the valley below.

A vast army of Uruk-hai, some ten thousand, were marching below. Aragorn could not see their banners, but he knew that they bore the white hand of Sauron. Tugging on Brego's mane, he turned the gelding away from the valley. When he was behind a rocky outcrop and safe from enemy eyes, he kicked Brego into a gallop. The dark bay obeyed, and his smooth gait bore Aragorn easily without jarring his wounded shoulder.

The gelding was swift and the ground flew beneath his hooves. Gradually Aragorn felt strength returning to him again so that by the time Brego stopped on a ridge overlooking Helm's Deep the ranger felt more alert.

"Mae carnen, Brego, mellon nin," (_Well done, Brego, my friend_) he told the horse, speaking in Sindarin as Falenor did. If the gelding understood, he gave no sign of it but to turn and pick his way down the slope.

The dark bay cantered up the long ramp and through the gates. Aragorn was vaguely aware of a large crowd watching as he slipped from Brego's back.

"Where is he!" came a gruff voice. The crowd parted to reveal Gimli, pushing his way past them. "Where is he! Get out of my way! I'm gonna kill him! You are the luckiest, the cunningest, and most reckless man I ever knew!" The dwarf hugged Aragorn's knees. "Bless you, laddie!"

"Gimli, where is the king?" Aragorn asked. The dwarf nodded to his right and Aragorn walked off in that direction. He almost ran into someone and when he looked up it was Legolas. The Elf examined him with keen eyes.

"Le abdollen," (_You're late_) he informed the ranger. "You look terrible." Aragorn laughed and put a hand on Legolas's shoulder. The Elf pressed something into his hand and Aragorn opened it. Arwen's Evenstar glittered on his palm, sparkling against his muddy hand.

"Hanno le," (_Thank you_) he told Legolas.

"Do not thank me," Legolas said. "Thank Falenor. It was he who sent Brego after you. He never gave up hope, not once."

"Where is he?" Aragorn asked, looking around for the drover. He saw him standing a little way away, speaking with Eowyn.

"I think romance is blossoming there," Legolas informed the ranger. Aragorn smiled slightly, it would be well for Eowyn to have someone care for her.

"Falenor!" Aragorn called. The peredhel froze and turned slowly. Aragorn watched as shock shifted into delighted surprise. The drover left Eowyn and ran forward. Suddenly he stopped himself and walked slowly forward with a grin.

"I told Brego to bring you back, alive or dead," Falenor told Aragorn, coming up and grasping his hand. "But never did I stop hoping it would be alive!"

"Thank you, my friend," the ranger smiled.

"Don't thank me," Falenor said, giving him a crooked smile. "I just didn't want to deal with another funeral!" Aragorn laughed slightly and turned, flanked by Legolas and Falenor, to open the double doors of the keep.

Theoden started in surprise as Aragorn entered. He, like everyone else, had thought the ranger to be dead. Aragorn stepped across the hall and came to stand before the king. He told him of all that he had seen when Brego had carried him to Helm's Deep.

"A great host, you say?" Theoden asked, standing.

"All Isengard is emptied," Aragorn nodded.

"How many?"

"Ten thousand strong at least." The king turned and looked at Aragorn, disbelief etched in his face.

"Ten thousand?"

"It is an army bred for a single purpose: to destroy the world of Men," Aragorn said. "They will be here by nightfall."

"Let them come," Theoden said, but his eyes were not as confident as his voice. The king turned and walked outside. Aragorn and Falenor exchanged looks before they followed him, Gimli and Legolas close behind.

"I want every man and strong lad able to bear arms, to be ready for battle by nightfall," Theoden informed Gamling. "We will cover the causeway and the gate from above. No army has ever breached the deeping wall or set foot inside the Hornburg." By now the five of them stood outside the gates, surveying the plains that stretched before the walls.

"This is no rabble of mindless orcs," Gimli argued, leaning on his axe. "These are Uruk-hai. Their armor is thick and their shields broad."

"I have fought many wars, Master Dwarf," Theoden said, his voice dangerously low. "I know how to defend my own keep." He turned and led the way back inside, climbing up a stairwell to the battlements.

"They will break upon this fortress like water on rock," Theoden said loudly. "Saruman's hordes will pillage and burn, we've seen it before. Crops can be resown. Homes rebuilt. Within these walls, we will outlast them."

"They do not come to destroy Rohan's crops or villages!" Aragorn argued. "They come to destroy its people. Down to the last child!" Theoden turned and pulled Aragorn close to him.

"What would you have me do?" he hissed. "Look at my men. Their courage hangs by a thread. If this is to be our end, then I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance!"

"He's right, Aragorn," Falenor came to the king's defense. He sighed heavily and looked at the ranger. "I'm sorry, but if a stallion does not look strong for his herd, they will run wild with fear before the lion."

"Send out riders, my lord," Aragorn said while Theoden was still thinking over whether Falenor's words were a compliment. "You must call for aid."

"And who will come?" the king asked quietly. "Elves? Dwarves? We are not so lucky in our friends as you. The old alliances are dead."

"Gondor will answer," Aragorn argued softly.

"Gondor?" Theoden spat. "Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell? Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us! Where was Gon - No, my Lord Aragorn, we are alone." The king turned and strode away from Aragorn.

"Get the women and children into the caves," he commanded Gamling.

"We need more time to lay provisions for a siege, lord -" Gamling began, but Theoden interrupted him.

"There is no time. War is upon us!" Gamling nodded and looked to his soldiers.

"Secure the gate." As Theoden walked away, Falenor sighed slightly.

"Too many stallions," he told Gimli. "The people do not know who to follow. In the end, they will turn on each other."

"Can you for once not relate something to horses?" the dwarf grumbled.


	35. 35 Siege Preparations

**Siege Preparations**

"We'll place the reserves along the wall," Aragorn said, speaking more to himself than to Legolas or Falenor who were following close behind him. "They can support the archers from above the gate."

"Aragorn, you must rest," Legolas insisted. "You're no use to us half-alive." Eowyn pushed her way through the press of bodies as the women and children moved into the caves.

"Aragorn!" she called when she saw him. "I'm to be sent with the women into the caves."

"That is an honorable charge," the ranger told her quietly.

"To mind the children, to find food and bedding when the men return. What renown is there in that?" Eowyn argued, her brown eyes flashing.

"My lady, a time may come for valor without renown," Aragorn said. "Who then will your people look to in the last defense?"

"Let me stand at your side."

"It is not in my power to command it."

"You do not command the others to stay!" Eowyn argued. "They fight beside you because they would not be parted from you. Because they love you." He eyes flicked to Falenor, who blushed slightly and looked away.

"I'm sorry," Aragorn said.

"And you?" Eowyn demanded, placing her hands on her hips and looking to Falenor for support. "Will you send me away?"

"No." Eowyn's eyes lit up with hope. "But I would ask you to obey Lord Aragorn and King Theoden. A stallion may drive the herd, but a mare leads it."

"But you would not force me into the caves!"

"I have no power to force you, nor to allow you to stay," Falenor said, turning slightly away. Eowyn blinked back sudden tears and allowed herself to be swept away by the flow of the crowd.

The men being shepherded into the armory were either bent with age or thin with youth.

"Farmers, farriers, stable boys," Aragorn said, surveying them. "These are no soldiers."

"Most have seen too many winters!" Gimli told them in a grating whisper.

"Or too few," Legolas said, watching a tiny boy try to lift a spear. "Look at them. They're frightened. I can see it in their eyes." Suddenly the room fell silent as all turned and looked at the Elf.

"Boe a hyn neled herain... dan caer menig!" (_And they should be. Three hundred... against ten thousand!_) He continued in Sindarin, looking at Aragorn.

"Si beriathar hyn ammaeg na ned Edoras," (_They have a better chance defending themselves here than in Edoras_) Aragorn argued.

"What are they saying?" Gimli asked, tugging on Falenor's sleeve. The drover just shook his head, his eyes darting between Aragorn and Legolas.

"Aragorn, men i ndagor. Hyn u otheri. Natha daged aen!" (_Aragorn, they cannot win this fight. They are all going to die!_) Legolas shouted.

"Then I shall die as one of them!" Aragorn shouted, forgetting to speak in Elvish. He glared at the Elf for a moment, then turned and vanished into the crowd. Legolas started after him, but Gimli placed a restraining hand on him.

"Let him go, lad," he advised. "Let him be."

Falenor turned and watched for a while as the soldiers handed out armor and weapons.

"Eothain?" he asked, grabbing the boy by the arm. "What are you doing here?"

"They sent me to fight," Eothain replied, his voice trembling.

"Come with me," Falenor sighed. "I'll get you set up." He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and guided him towards where a soldier was passing out helmets. The man gave Eothain a large helmet.

"Do you have anything smaller?" the drover asked. One glance at the helmet and he knew it would dwarf Eothain's head.

"No, my lord," the soldier replied.

"Master," Falenor corrected absent-mindedly. The drover saw a mail coif lying among the armor. He picked up the chain mail hood and listened to its links rattle. Falenor gave it to Eothain and the boy slipped it over his blond hair. It was too big, slipping slightly and revealing a large gap of the boy's neck, but it was still better than the over-large helmet.

Falenor took Eothain to one of the Rohirrim who was giving weapons to boys no older than Eothain. The Man smiled at Falenor and gave Eothain a battle axe.

"Can you even lift that?" the peredhel asked the boy. Eothain tried, but he trembled with the effort of even holding it. Falenor took the axe and gave it back to the rider.

"Here, take this," he said, unbuckling the sheath of the dagger he wore at his hip.

"But it's yours!" the boy argued. Falenor reached around Eothain and buckled the dagger to him. The boy pulled it out and looked with awe along the silver length of the blade. He tried to read the runes inscribed about the hilt, then looked up at the drover in amazement.

"Thank you!" he whispered.

"Stay close to me," Falenor told him, bending down and looking Eothain in the eye. "Whatever happens, I will protect you."

"I'll never be as good a fighter as you," the boy said dejectedly. Falenor took the dagger from him and re-sheathed it.

"_When_ we get out of this," he told Eothain. "I will tell you the story of Almelui the outlaw."

"Really?"

"As long as you stay by me and stay alive," Falenor smiled.

Aragorn strapped on the last of his armor, the vambraces, and he reached out for his sword. To his surprise the hilt appeared in front of him, and he looked up to see Legolas offering it to him.

"We have trusted you this far and you have not led us astray," the Elf said as Aragorn strapped on his sword. "Forgive me. I was wrong to despair." Aragorn smiled slightly at the Elf.

"U-mor edamed, Legolas," (_There is nothing to forgive, Legolas_) he assured him.

"If I had time, I'd get this adjusted," Gimli muttered to himself as he entered the room, Falenor close behind. The dwarf released the chain mail he had been struggling with and it fell to the floor, clearly to long for the short dwarf. "It's a little tight across the chest."

"What about you, Falenor?" Aragorn asked. The drover wore no extra armor, just his leather jerkin and cloth coat.

"Me?" Falenor asked. The ranger picked out a haubergeon for him, a shirt of chain mail designed to fall to the mid-thigh, and a long broadsword.

"Aragorn, I have never worn mail!" Falenor argued as the ranger thrust the armor into his hands. "Nor wielded a broadsword! These will only hinder me." He was interrupted by the sound a horn that echoed outside the walls.

"That is no orc horn!" Legolas said, his grey eyes lighting up in delight. The four of them rushed outside as a man shouted.

"Send for the king. Open the gate!" The large wooden gates were pulled open and an army of Elves, armed with bows and swords, marched through them. Theoden ran down the steps from the keep and stared in awe as the Elf captain came to meet him.

"How is this possible?" The king asked, watching the Elves march past.

"I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell," Haldir replied. "An alliance once existed between Elves and Men. Long ago we fought and died together." He paused to watch as Aragorn, Falenor, Legolas, and Gimli rushed down the stairs past Theoden. "We come to honor that allegiance."

"Mae govannen, Haldir!" (_Welcome, Haldir_) Aragorn said, stepping forward. He placed his hand over his heart and bowed slightly. Then the ranger rushed forward and hugged the Elf captain. Haldir seemed startled, but he returned the gesture after a moment.

"You are _most _welcome," Aragorn said, stepping back. Legolas came down the stairs and also embraced Haldir. As Falenor stepped forward the army of Elves turned and lowered their bows and shields in unison: a salute for their prince. Falenor paused, surprised, but then came forward and stood behind Haldir.

"We are proud to fight alongside Men, once more," Haldir smiled.


	36. 36 For Death and Glory

**For Death and Glory**

Falenor fidgeted slightly, the chain mail Aragorn had forced upon him clinked slightly. He had put it on over his shirt and under his jerkin, but he still felt naked. He had had to discard his back and side sheaths because there was no way to reach the knives under the mail. He was now four blades short. Instead he had a long broadsword he could only raise with two hands.

The peredhel had taken his place at the very end of the Elven archers. Eothain trembled slightly beside him. Lightning flashed, lighting up the valley below. A massive army of Uruk-hai had filled it. Falenor placed an arm around Eothain's shoulders and gave him a comforting squeeze. A few drops fell, spattering against the stone wall.

"Rain. Of course!" Falenor snorted. The enemy approached, carrying torches and long spears.

"A Eruchin, u-dano i faelas a hyn an uben tanatha le faelas!" Aragorn shouted, pacing up and down before the Elves.

"What did he say?" Eothain asked. Falenor raised his voice as he translated, making sure every Man near him heard.

"Show the no mercy! For you shall receive none!" he called. Suddenly, at some hidden signal, the Uruk-hai stopped. The rain began pouring down in earnest now, drenching them.

"What's happening?" A boy asked. He couldn't have been any older than Eothain, and he had also attached himself to Falenor.

In answer, the Uruks began to pound their spears against the ground, creating a steady drumming sound accompanied by their roars. Falenor's fingers clenched around the sword.

Suddenly an arrow shot through the air and hit an uruk. Everything went silent as the beast moaned and fells onto his face.

"Dartho!" (_Hold!_) Aragorn yelled, but it was too late. The Uruks roared in anger and ran forward. Beside Falenor, the Elves notched their arrows to their longbows and aimed.

"Leithio i philinnn!" (_Fire the arrows!_) Aragorn shouted. The Elves released their bowstrings and the first line of Uruks fell.

"Fire!" Gamling shouted from where he stood with the king nearby. At his command the Men fired their arrows, bringing down considerably fewer than the Elves had.

"Tangado a chadad!" (_Keep firing!_) Aragorn shouted, raising his sword. But the Uruks shot a volley of arrows back. The little boy next to Eothain gasped softly as he fell, having caught an arrow in his neck.

"Are you all right?" Falenor asked, stooping to peer at the little boy. As he did, an arrow aimed at him fell into the court below. The drover felt the boy's wrist for a pulse, then dropped his hand. "Dead," he whispered to himself. "Keep your head down, Eothain!"

"Pendraid!" Aragorn shouted.

"Ladders!" Falenor repeated for the Men. The Uruk-hai were hoisting the ladders up and climbing their rungs.

"Stay behind me!" The drover shouted, pushing Eothain out of the way as two giant hooks clattered against the wall and the uruks began to scale the wall.

Falenor slew the first uruk more by luck than skill. He lunged forward with his sword and knocked it from the ladder. The uruk fell, screaming. But the lunge with the heavy sword had unbalanced Falenor and he stumbled.

"Yah!" Eothain shouted, stabbing an uruk that had climbed up the ladder. Falenor dispatched the wounded beast, but more Uruk-hai swarmed over the walls. Falenor tried to protect Eothain, but occasionally the boy had to fight. He never had to give more than a few blows before the drover turned and killed his opponent.

"Tobale im!" (_Cover me!_) Falenor told the Elves beside him. They shifted their bows and shot down Uruks that were trying to climb the ladder. "Eothain! Help me!" Falenor had dropped his sword and he was pushing the rusty iron hooks of the ladder. The metal grated against the wall, leaving long gashes in the stone. Eothain rushed to him and pushed with all his might.

With a final heave they dislodged the ladder and sent it crashing onto the host of Uruk-hai below.

"Dodge!" Falenor shouted and Eothain leapt to the side. A giant spear cut through the air where he had been standing. Falenor panted for a moment, his eyes scanning the fight.

"Aragorn! The ramp!" He shouted. The ranger turned and saw a group of uruks advancing up the causeway, covered by shields.

"Northway! Nauthannen!" (_The causeway!_) Aragorn shouted. The Elves shifted their bows and picked off the uruks from the side of the formation, and these tumbled from the bridge.

Suddenly there was a mighty rumble and the wall beneath the Elves' feet exploded. Falenor snatched Eothain out of the way as he ran from the blast. The peredhel looked back and saw that a large part of the wall had been torn asunder and uruks were pouring into the hole.

"Brace the gates!" Theoden ordered. Falenor had run almost directly in front of the king as he fled the explosion.

An uruk, having fought its way along the wall, was charging on the king's unprotected back. The guards were looking down at the wall in shock, and did not notice the threat to their king.

With a yell, Falenor threw himself between Theoden and the attacking uruk. He blocked the beast's thrust with his broadsword and tried to push his opponent's iron blade up and over. He was clumsy, unused to the sword in his hand, and he did not manage to clear the next swipe of the uruk. Its iron blade sliced Falenor's forehead, creating a gash there.

Blood flowed into the drover's eyes, blocking his vision. He feebly parried the next attack, but soon he could barely see his opponent.

"Hiyah!" Gamling shouted, spearing the uruk and sending it tumbling off the wall. "Falenor, are you all right?" The peredhel blinked, trying to wipe the blood from his eyes with his shirt sleeve.

"Look after Eothain," he told the guard, and with that he ran down the stairs into the thick of the battle.

Aragorn shook his head, clearing the fuzz of unconsciousness from his mind. He was lying on the ground where he had fallen from the wall in the explosion. Rocks lay all around, and a pool of water splashed nearby as Uruks ran through it.

The ranger stood and stared as the uruks ran toward him. Behind him stood the Elves in reformed ranks as they waited for his command. Gimli stood alone, fighting off the tide of the beasts.

"Gimli!" Aragorn shouted to him. "Prepare to charge!" The dwarf continued to hack away with his axe, but an uruk knocked him aside and Gimli fell into the pool.

"Hado i philinn!" (_Hurl the arrows!_) Aragorn shouted. The Elves released a volley and then unsheathed their swords. "Herio!" (_Charge!_) Aragorn ran forward, leading the Elves into the enemy. Legolas joined him, slashing at the uruks with his two long Elven knives.

"Aragorn!" came Theoden's voice. The ranger looked up and saw the king standing on top of the wall. "Pull back to the gate!"

"Am Marad!" (_To the keep!_) Aragorn order the Elves around him. "Nan barad! Haldir! Nan barad!" (_Pull back! Haldir! Pull back!_) The Elf captain nodded at him and began to retreat, calling the others to follow. Legolas and another Elf grabbed Gimli and began to drag him away.

"What are you doing?" The dwarf shouted, waving his arms to get back in the fight. "Stop it!"

Aragorn turned and saw an uruk raise its sword and strike Haldir's unprotected back.

"Haldir!" he shouted as the Elf stumbled in pain. The uruk struck him again and Haldir fell to his knees. Aragorn fought madly, struggling to reach the Elf captain. He knelt beside Haldir, but the Elf's head lolled back. He was dead.

Aragorn laid Haldir down gently as more Uruk-hai charged toward him. The ranger retreated, swearing to recover Haldir's body later. He fought his way to the gate an arrived to see Theoden staggering away, clutching is wounded arm.

"Hold them!" The king yelled.

"How long do you need?" Aragorn asked, already rushing off to a side door, dragging Gimli along.

"As long as you can give me!"

Aragorn slipped out the side door with Gimli and edged his way along the wall. He glanced around the corner and saw the Uruks attacking the gate, ramming it with their bodies now that their battering ram was gone.

"Come on. We can take 'em!" Gimli whispered enthusiastically.

"It's a long way," Aragorn told him. Gimli glanced around Aragorn and eyed the gap.

"Toss me," he said gruffly.

"What?" Aragorn asked.

"I cannot jump the distance so you have to toss me," the dwarf said. Aragorn nodded and leaned down to pick up Gimli, but the dwarf stopped him. "Eh... Don't tell the Elf."

"Not a word," the ranger assured him, then he threw Gimli across the gap. When the dwarf landed, brandishing his axe, Aragorn jumped after him. Together they fought the advancing troops, taking advantage of the narrow space that forced the enemy to come four at a time.

Yellow-fletched arrows rained down upon the uruks. Legolas was shooting down the Uruk-hai from above the gates.

"Gimli! Aragorn!" Theoden called finally as the last hole in the gate was being sealed. "Get out of there!"

"Aragorn!" The ranger looked up and saw Legolas throw him a rope. Aragorn grabbed it and seized Gimli around the waist. The Elf began to haul them up, hand over hand. The Uruk-hai threw themselves at the doors, trying to break them down, but the Men on the other side had succeeded in bracing them.

As Legolas grabbed Aragorn's hand and pulled him over the wall, Gamling began sounding the retreat. The three of them turned and ran along the battlements, headed for the keep. Men and Elves were scattered on the stone walkways, dead or dying. When Aragorn was almost to the steps of the keep he spied a familiar mop of tangled black hair.

"Falenor!" Aragorn shouted. The drover was slumped against the wall, a long spear had torn its way through the chain mail and pierced Falenor's side. The shaft emerged, bloodied, on the other side. Aragorn knelt down and turned the peredhel over, wincing at the long gash that ran along Falenor's forehead.

The drover groaned slightly as he was moved.

"He's alive!" Legolas shouted. Aragorn grabbed Falenor and pulled the young man onto his shoulders. The peredhel was surprisingly light, barely heavier than an Elf. Aragorn turned and carried Falenor into the keep. As he, Legolas, and Gimli ran into the hall the doors slammed shut behind them.

Aragorn placed Falenor on the floor as the Men barricaded the doors.

"Falenor! Stay with me," he begged. Aragorn broke off the shaft of the spear where it entered and exited Falenor's body, but he dared not remove the piece still embedded in the young man's side.

"Aragorn?" Falenor asked, his breath coming in ragged heaves. "My flute..." Aragorn looked at Legolas and nodded. The Elf sped away to find Falenor's coat.

"Is he going to die?" Eothain asked. The young boy had emerged from the battle, miraculously unhurt.

"Aragorn... I'm sorry," Falenor gasped. His blue eyes were wide and unseeing, despite the blood that trickled around them.

"No, I am sorry," the ranger said, grasping Falenor's hand in his own. "I should have listened. I should not have forced a sword upon you." The peredhel gave no reply, his breath hitching in his lungs. A small trickle of blood flowed from his mouth. Aragorn wiped this away and tried to clean Falenor's face with his sleeve.

"Aragorn!" Legolas said, crouching down beside him. He held out a small vial of purple liquid. "It was in the pocket with his flute." Aragorn took the little glass bottle and peeled off the wax seal. Uncorking it he dripped three drops of the purple nectar into Falenor's mouth.

"Four more!" Legolas urged. Aragorn paused, lifting the bottle slightly.

"We might need this for others," he said softly.

"Aragorn, it will only work on a peredhel," Legolas told him. The ranger hesitated, but allowed four more drops to fall on the drover's tongue.

Falenor's breathing slowed, but he was still pale and wane. Outside the uruks were trying to break down the door of the keep.

"The fortress is taken," Theoden told them. "It is over." Aragorn felt a surge of anger, thinking of Haldir and looking down at Falenor.

"You said this fortress would never fall while your men defend it!" Aragorn shouted, standing up. "They still defend it. They have died defending it!" The door shook under the Uruk-hai's assault.

"Is there no other way for the women and children to get out of the caves?" Aragorn asked, but Theoden did not respond. "Is there no other way?"

"There is one passage," Gamling started hesitantly. "It leads into the mountains. But they will not get far. The Uruk-hai are too many." Aragorn grabbed Gamling by the shoulder.

"Send word for the women and children to make for the mountain pass," he ordered. "And barricade the entrance!"

"What about him?" Gamling asked. Falenor now lay so still that he could have been dead, save for the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

"Do not move him," Aragorn said.

"So much death," Theoden finally spoke, his voice tired. "What can men do against such reckless hate?"

"Ride out with me," Aragorn said after a pause. "Ride out and meet them." Theoden turned and faced Aragorn, some fire springing up in his eyes.

"For death and glory?" the king asked hopefully.

"For Rohan," Aragorn corrected him. "For your people."

"The sun is rising," Gimli commented, nodding towards a window. Aragorn glanced up as the bright light filtered through the narrow slit.

"_Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the East." _Gandalf's words echoed in Aragorn's mind.

"Yes. Yes! The horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound in the deep, one last time," Theoden shouted.

"Yes!" Gimli yelled as he ran to the spiral staircase that led to the horn.

"Let this be the hour when we draw swords together," Theoden told Aragorn. The ranger looked over his shoulder at Falenor once last time, and he hesitated at the thought of leaving him defenseless.

Horses were brought for them all and someone gave Aragorn Hasufel's reins.

"Fell deeds awake," Theoden announced as the mounted their horses and drew their weapons. "Now for wrath. Now for ruin. And the red dawn!" As the king pulled on his helmet a deep horn thrummed from above. The two Men holding the doors jumped back as the wood splinted and gave in.

"Forth Eorlings!" Theoden shouted, holding his sword aloft. The king charged, Aragorn, Legolas, and the Rohirrim close behind. As they ran the horses trampled the Uruk-hai under their hooves.

They fought down the causeway and into the heart of the Uruk army. Aragorn paused in his fighting as a bright light rose over a hill. Shadowfax reared, sparkling in the sunlight, Gandalf on the mearas's back.

"Gandalf," Aragorn breathed. Theoden turned to follow Aragorn's gaze and the king grinned as Eomer joined Gandalf. The captain raised his spear and a vast host of Rohirrim flocked into view.

"Eomer!" Theoden shouted as the Rohirrim poured down the steep hill. The Uruk-hai regrouped and pointed their spears at the charging horses, but Gandalf raised his staff and a ray of the sun blinded them.

The Rohirrim cut deep into the Uruk army, who turned and fled from Helm's Deep, vanishing into a line of trees. Aragorn frowned, for he could not remember the forest that now filled the valley.

"Stay out of the forest!" Eomer shouted. "Keep away from the trees!" The Rohirrim pulled their mounts to a stop, watching as the last uruk ran into the trees. Suddenly the forest began to groan and sway. Horrible shrieks and wails emerged from between the leafy boughs.


	37. 37 Wounded

**Wounded**

When they came back into the fortress Eowyn was there waiting for them. She had brought the women and children out from the caves and many wives were running through the soldiers, trying to find their husbands.

When she saw Aragorn among the men Eowyn pushed towards him smiling in relief. She touched his face and embraced him.

"My lady," Aragorn said, returning the hug. "It is well to see you."

"Are the lords Gimli and Legolas all right?" Eowyn asked, looking through the crowd.

"They are... ah, tallying up their totals," Aragorn told her. She giggled softly.

"And Lord Falenor?" She asked. "I saw Brego was still in the stables..." Eowyn trailed off as she saw Aragorn's face. The ranger took her hand and led her into the keep. Eothain was still crouching beside Falenor, two dead uruks a testimony to his defense of the peredhel.

Aragorn shooed the boy away and bent over Falenor.

"Gently," he advised Eowyn. The lady carefully took Falenor in her arms and embraced him slightly.

"Can you help him?" she asked tearfully.

"I can do my best," Aragorn sighed. "Haldir would have been able to... but it is no use to say such things."

"Aragorn?" Gandalf asked. The wizard was waiting with Eomer, Legolas, Gimli, and Theoden. "We ride to Isengard." Aragorn nodded and stood, but Eowyn grabbed his arm.

"What about Falenor?" she asked. "You said you would help him!"

"Take him back to Edoras," Theoden said. "Have doctors tend him there."

_Falenor's spirit was wandering. The spear had mortally wounded him, and his spirit had nearly departed from his body when miruvore had brought him back. His spirit now remained tethered to his body, but it was restless._

_It galloped across the plains, searching for someone. Finally it found them, a group of riders walking through the wood._

_Shadowfax was surprised when Falenor's spirit entered him, but the stallion's soul made room for Falenor to join him. _

"_Something wrong?" Gandalf asked as the mearas stopped. Shadowfax started slightly, for when Falenor was in him the stallion could understand what the Istar said. The horse shook his long mane and began walking again._

_Falenor looked around. Theoden was behind him on his horse, Snowmane. Aragorn rode Hasufel behind him, and Eomer was on Firefoot beside him. Legolas and Gimli brought up the rear on Arod. _

_The riders were looking around warily as low sounds, like grumbles and creaks, echoed around them._

The wagon Falenor was lying on was jolted and he hissed in pain. The shaft of the spear was still in his side and at every bump in the road his body protested and ached.

_Shadowfax saw two small men sitting on a crumbled wall. Merry and Pippin! Falenor told the stallion excitedly. _

"_Welcome, my Lords..." Merry shouted, standing up. "To Isengard!" Gandalf steered Shadowfax up to stand next to the wall and the wizard huffed in annoyances._

"_You young rascals! A merry chase you've led us on, and now we find you feasting and... and smoking!" Gimli yelled, waving a fist at the hobbits. _

"_We are sitting on the field of victory," Pippin informed the dwarf. "Enjoying a few well-earned comforts. The salted pork is _particularly _good."_

"_Salted pork?" Gimli asked, practically drooling._

"_Hobbits," Gandalf grumbled. _

"_We're under orders from Treebeard," Merry told them. "Who's taken over management of Isengard."_

_Aragorn helped Pippin onto Hasufel and Eomer took Merry._

"_Where's Falenor?" Pippin asked. "He's not...?" Falenor started slightly to hear his own name._

"_No, he was injured, though," Aragorn told the hobbits. "He's being taken back to Edoras."_

"When do you think he's going to wake up?" a little voice asked. It was Freda; she and her brother had been following the wagon for days now.

"Leave him be!" their mother rebuked them. "He's been through quite enough as it is."

"But he promised to tell me a story!" That was Eothain. Falenor smiled slightly. There was a slight silence for a moment.

"Do you think he's dreaming?" Freda asked her mother.

"It's a wonder he can get any sleep with you two hovering over him!"

_Shadowfax did not shy at the trees that lumbered around the flooded courtyard of Orthanc. The other horses did, but Falenor spoke to them through Shadowfax, and they did not bolt._

"_Young master Gandalf," an Ent rumbled as he approached them on long legs the size of tree trunks. "I'm glad you've come. Wood and water, stock and stone I can master, but there's a _Wizard_ to manage here, locked in his tower."_

_The other riders shifted uncomfortably, and their horses fidgeted in response._

"_Show yourself!" Aragorn called up the tower._

"_Be careful; even in defeat Saruman is dangerous," Gandalf warned._

"_Then let's just have his head and be done with it," Gimli said with a shrug._

"_No, we need him alive," Gandalf said. "We need him to talk."_

"_You have fought many wars and slain many men Theoden king, and made peace afterwards," a voice, deep and cold, called out from a balcony. "Can we not take council together, as we once did, my old friend? Can we not have peace, you and I?"_

"_Don't listen to him!" Falenor wanted to scream, and Shadowfax gave a high whinny of agreement._

"_We shall have peace," Theoden began softly, but then he became more assured. "We shall have peace... when you answer for the burning of the westfold, and the children that lie dead there. We shall have peace, when the lives of the soldiers, whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg, are avenged! When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows... we shall have peace."_

"_Gibbets and crows?" the wizard sneered. "Dotard! What do you want Gandalf Greyhame? Let me guess; the key of Orthanc, or perhaps the key of Barad-dur itself, along with the crowns of the seven kings and the rods of the five wizards!"_

"_You treachery had already cost many lives," Gandalf said softly. "Thousands more are now at risk, but you could save them Saruman. You were deep in the enemy's council."_

"_So you have come here for information. I have some for you," Saruman smiled. He took out a glowing ball of glass and gazed into it. "Something festers in the heart of Middle-Earth. Something that you have failed to see. But the Great Eye has seen it. Even now he presses his advantage. His attack will come soon."_

_Shadowfax stepped slightly forward when Falenor asked him to. The drover wanted to hear what Saruman had to say._

"_You're all going to die," Saruman sneered. "But you know this, don't you Gandalf?" Falenor tilted Shadowfax's ear back, curious to hear Gandalf's answer, but it did not come. "You cannot think that this Ranger will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor. This exile, crept from the shadows, will never be king."_

_Shadowfax reared, his hooves just coming out of the water. He snorted in anger, Falenor's spirit well bonded to the mearas's by now._

"_Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those closest to him, those he professes to love," Saruman continued. "Tell me... what words of comfort did you give the halfling before you sent him to his doom?"_

"_Do not forget that you yourself were once bested by a halfling," Gandalf reminded the wizard._

"_The path that you have set him on can only lead to his doom," Saruman ignored Gandalf's statement, but the other riders looked curiously at Gandalf._

"_I've heard enough," Gimli growled to Legolas. "Shoot him. Stick an arrow in his gob." Legolas started to reached for his quiver but Gandalf stopped him._

"_No," he told the Elf. "Come down Saruman, and your life will be spared."_

"_Save your pity and your mercy; I have no use for it!" Saruman sneered. "And as for the spy in your midst... be gone!" The wizard spread out his hands. Everyone held their breath. Saruman glared at Shadowfax._

"_Be gone!" he tried again. _

"_I obey no one," Falenor said, Shadowfax whinnying. "Especially not a trumped up, egotistical, greasy..." Saruman shot a fireball from his staff. The flames flew down and engulfed Gandalf and Shadowfax. _

"No!" Falenor said, sitting up in the wagon. People all around looked at him, frightened by his outburst.

"Mister Falenor," a woman said. The drover recognized her as Freda and Eothain's mother. "Are you all right sir?"

Falenor sank back onto the hard wood of the wagon. "I'm fine... bad dream," he mumbled, then let his spirit loose once more.

_The flames died out, revealing Gandalf and Shadowfax unscathed and undisturbed. Saruman stared, his mouth slightly open in surprise._

"_Saruman, your staff is broken," Gandalf told the wizard. Saruman glanced at his staff and as he did so its rod trembled violently and shattered. A hunched figure crept up from behind Saruman: Grima Wormtongue._

"_Grima, you need not follow him," Theoden called up to the man who had served as his advisor. "You were not always as you are now. You were once a man of Rohan! Come down." Wormtongue bowed to Theoden and turned as though to creep away._

"_A man of Rohan?" Saruman snorted. "What is the house of Rohan but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek and brats roll on the floor with the dogs? Victory at Helm's Deep does not belong to you, Theoden, horsemaster!"_

"_Don't call him that," Falenor argued wearily. _

"_You are a lesser son of greater sires."_

"_Grima, come down. Be free of him," Theoden tried again._

"_Free?" Saruman laughed. "He will never be free."_

"_No," Wormtongue said quietly, advancing on the wizard._

"_Get down, cur!" Saruman commanded him. He slapped Wormtongue and sent him falling to the floor._

"_Saruman, you were deep in the enemy's council," Gandalf tried again. "Tell us what you know."_

"_You withdraw you guard, send the spy away, and I will tell you where your doom will be decided," Saruman said. Suddenly Wormtongue sprang up, a dagger in hand._

"_I will not be held prisoner here," Saruman continued, unaware of the danger to him. Wormtongue jumped on the wizard's back and stabbed him twice before Legolas shot him down. Saruman fell off the tower and was impaled upon the spoke of a large wheel, one of his own maniacal inventions. _

"_Send word to all our allies, and to every corner of Middle-Earth that still stands free," Gandalf sighed as the wheel began to turn, dragging Saruman's body below the water. "The enemy moves against us. We need to know where he will strike."_

"Eledhwen!" Falenor murmured, turned on his side and gasping as a sharp lightning bolt of pain greeted him. "The Rhaw Nur..."

"Peace, Master Falenor," a woman said, bathing his brow with a cold cloth. "Someone get Lady Eowyn!"

_Treebeard had returned. "The filth of Saruman is washing away," he said in his odd slow fashion. "Trees will come back to live here. Young trees, wild trees." _

_Suddenly Pippin hopped down from Hasufel and waded through the water._

"_Pippin!" Aragorn called, but the hobbit bent down and picked up a dark orb. It was the one Saruman had looked into earlier, and must have fallen with the wizard._

"_Bless my bark!" Treebeard said, squinting at the darkened sphere._

"_Peregrin Took," Gandalf said, steering Shadowfax over toward the hobbit. "I'll take that, my lad. Quickly now!" Pippin reluctantly handed the orb to Gandalf. Shadowfax turned his head to look at it, but the wizard covered it up and gave Pippin and Shadowfax a long look._

"Falenor? Falenor?" a voice was calling. The drover groaned and stirred slightly. "We are here."

"Eowyn?" he asked, his voice dry and cracked. The lady swam into view, her long golden hair pulled over one shoulder. Falenor tried to lift his head, then let it fall back. "Eledhwen," he mumbled as the darkness took him once more.

A/N: Do any of my fair readers who have journeyed with Anduin before this know which halfling Gandalf referenced in his retort to Saruman? Oh, that's right, I went there. Heir of Calenor, Chapter 15: Isengard.


	38. 38 The Arrest, The Deal, and the Answer

**An Unjust Arrest**

"The King! The King has returned!" A guard shouted. "Long live the King!" As Theoden walked up the steps of the Golden Hall of Meduseld he was greeted by men of the Rohirrim, women, and children.

"Welcome home, my lords!"

"Hail, Theoden!"

"The Victors of Helm's Deep!"

"They love you," Aragorn said as the welcoming crowd flowed around them. "Look at all the smiling faces."

"There's one face I don't see," Theoden said, scanning the people. "Eomer, where is your sister?" Eomer shrugged but Legolas lifted a hand to his eyes and looked over the crush of people.

"There!" The Elf said, catching sight of Eowyn. She was leading Falenor by the arm and laughing with him about something. The drover looked much better, still weak and a bandage running around his head for the gash there.

"Uncle!" Eowyn said, running to embrace him. "Did all go well with Saruman? Did he tell you what you wished to know?"

"I'm afraid things went... a little less than that," Gandalf said.

"Eomer?" Theoden said, his voice oddly low.

"Yes?" the captain asked, leaning forward.

"Have your guards arrest that man," the king nodded toward Falenor. Eomer looked slightly troubled, but nodded to a few of the guards. The Men rushed forward, pushing women and children aside. The women screamed and drew back as the Rohirrim seized Falenor's arms and held him. The drover struggled, but he was still to weak to throw off his attackers.

"On what chargers?" Aragorn asked angrily, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Silence fell in the Golden Hall as everyone waited for Theoden's answer.

"Horse thievery," the king said at last. Falenor sagged a little in the Rohirrim's arms.

"No!" Eowyn and Legolas shouted. The Elf tried to fight his way to Falenor but Eomer held him back.

"Put him in a cell!" Theoden shouted. The drover was dragged away, shaking violently.

"Theoden," Gandalf warned, but the king interrupted him.

"This is my kingdom!" Theoden shouted. "And I have a right to punish law-breakers!"

Eothain broke from his mother's grasp and tried to hit Theoden, but Gamling caught the boy and held him off the ground, arms pinned to his side.

"He saved you!" Eothain shouted, tears pouring down his face. "You'd be dead if it weren't for him. He _saved _you!"

"Is that true, my lord?" Eowyn asked, crying silently. "Did he truly save you?" Theoden said nothing, but walked into the hall, the crowd parting silently before him. Eowyn looked at Gamling who diverted his gaze, but nodded slightly.

"Gandalf, you cannot let this happen!" Aragorn yelled, turning to the wizard.

"Falenor knew the risks," Gandalf said quietly. "Theoden will offer him a deal before the day is out."

**The Deal**

The men had thrown him in the cell, and Falenor lay where they had tossed him. There were no windows, and no light to chase away the shadows of his stone prison. The drover trembled violently, quaking against the cold flagstones.

When a light approached from down the hall, Falenor sat up, his eyes fixed on that small flame. In its light he could see the torch bearer and Theoden. The peredhel waited for them to come to him, determined not to say the first word.

"I suppose you know the real reason I have brought you here," Theoden said at last. Falenor made no reply, the flame from the torch flickering in his blue gaze. "It wasn't for stealing," Theoden prompted.

"I know," Falenor's voice was a mere whisper as he struggled to control the fear that was engulfing his heart.

"Your talents could be immensely useful," Theoden told him.

"My... talents?"

"Don't play dumb with me, boy!" Theoden snarled.

"How do you know I'm playing?"

"Everyone is talking about it... the Rohirrim, the stable boys," Theoden began to pace. "Even Eowyn. You can control the horses!"

"I can speak with them," Falenor said, following Theoden with his eyes. "And sometimes they listen. Out of love. Not out of fear."

"Are you suggesting my people are afraid of me?" Theoden snarled, grasping the bars of the cell.

"Why should they be?" Falenor asked defiantly.

"What do you know about being a king?" Theoden spat.

"I _am _a king," Falenor said softly. "My people love me. They would follow me to the bitter end."

"They don't have to!" Theoden tried a gentler approach. "You could save them, Falenor! WIth your power the Rohirrim could conquer any enemy on horseback."

"I don't think you are going to have many of those enemies," Falenor said softly. "Unless you refuse to release me."

"I will release you," Theoden growled. "When you swear allegiance to me."

"I serve no king." Theoden turned and swept down the hallway.

"Give him only bread and water," he told the guard. "No visitors. No light. Set a guard on this door at all times. No one comes in, no one goes out. If he asks for me, come and get me. No matter what time. And he _will _ask for me." Falenor buried his head in his hands and let silent tears fall.

"Oh Eledhwen," he sighed. "Im gwarth. U'ui tirim Rhaw Nur norlain." (_I failed. Never will I see the Rhaw Nur run free._) Out of the darkness of the cell, Falenor thought he could see Eledhwen standing there. She rebuked him gently.

"_You told the South wind to remember who he was and to fight for his freedom. Will you not do the same? Will your really fail your family?"_

"No," Falenor told her. "NO!" The drover stood and threw himself at the bars of his cell.

**Falenor's Answer**

"What's going on?" Eomer demanded. The horses of the city had escaped their stalls and tethers and were running wild through Edoras. They were crazed, galloping through the streets and hurling themselves at the walls. If anyone tried to stop them, the horses turned on them and chased them down. Women screamed and pulled their children from the paths of the crazed animals.

"My lord, they've gone mad!" A stable boy told him. "I was grooming Firefoot as he went crazy! He broke down the doors of the stables and the other horses followed!"

"Well, catch him!" Firefoot was Eomer's horse, and a steadfast mount.

"We are trying!" The boy yelled running after the white stallion.

"I trust you know what this means?" Gandalf asked, coming to stand behind Theoden. The king was watching at his window.

"Falenor's answer." Theoden's mouth twisted slightly. He nodded to the guard who stood at the entrance to the cells. The man nodded and went down the staircase. A few moments later, the horses stopped.

The horses, crazed and wild a moment before, hung their heads and allowed themselves to be led back to their stalls.

"You see?" Theoden smiled as the guard emerged and nodded to him. "I will break that young colt." As the king turned and walked away Gandalf watched the stable boys collect the horses. One of them was Shadowfax.

The stallion turned his head and looked Gandalf right in the eye. In the mearas's eye was a glint of blue. The Istar had seen that same glint when he had taken the Palantir from Pippin.

"Do you think he will, Gandalf?" Legolas asked. The Elf and Aragorn had come to stand behind the wizard.

"I think Theoden is trying to saddle the wind and get on its back," Gandalf told them. "If he succeeds, it will be the ride of his life. If he doesn't..." Gandalf shrugged. "It's a long fall."


	39. 39 Eowyn's Tending

**Eowyn's Tending**

Eowyn brought Theoden a cup but she would not meet his eyes. The king took the drink and raised it to signal a toast. Benches scraped as the men stood and raised their own tankards.

"Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country." Aragorn was glaring at Theoden and the king quickly continued. "Hail the victorious dead!"

"Hail!" the crowd responded, lifting their mugs and drinking from them. Aragorn started to lift his own, but then put it down.

"Your face is as long as a horse," Gimli told Legolas.

"How can we make merry when Falenor..." the Elf asked, his voice trailing off in a sigh.

"Come on, I know just the thing," the dwarf chortled. Gimli went to find Eomer and brought the captain of the Rohirrim back to the table where Legolas was sitting morosely.

Eomer grabbed two mugs of ale from a passing maid and handed one to Gimli and one to Legolas.

"No pauses, no spills," he instructed the two of them.

"And no regurgitation," Gimli added, accepting his mug. Legolas looked slightly disgusted.

"So it's a drinking game?" He asked. "This is your idea of fun?"

"Aye, last one standing wins," Gimli laughed.

"What shall we drink to?" someone in the crowd asked. "Let's drink to victory! To victory!" Gimli took a massive gulp of his ale while Legolas took a timid sip.

"It's no Elf wine," Legolas grimaced. "But it's potable."

Eowyn passed their group and came to where Aragorn stood. She handed him a goblet and spoke in Rohirric.

"Westu, Aragorn, hal," (_Be-thou well Aragorn_) she told him as he took a sip from it. The ranger passed the goblet back to Eowyn and walked away. Theoden joined Eowyn and watched Aragorn walk away.

"I am happy for you," he told her. "He is an honorable man."

"It is not Lord Aragorn who has my love," Eowyn argued, fingering the goblet. "It is Lord Falenor." Theoden frowned and looked at Eowyn.

"How could I not have seen?" he cursed himself. "What a fool I was to not notice that my niece had fallen in love!"

"Here, here!" Gimli shouted. "It's to dwarves that go swimming... with little hairy women."

"I feel something," Legolas said, examining his fingers worriedly. "A slight tingling in my fingers. I think it's affecting me."

"What did I say?" Gimli boomed, draining another ale. "He can't hold his liquor!" Suddenly the dwarf keeled over and began to snore. Legolas watched him with amusement.

"Game over," the Elf said smugly.

"Uncle," Eowyn said, bringing Theoden's attention back to her. "Please, I beg you, let me see him."

"Eowyn," he sighed.

"He is dear to me," Eowyn told the king. "And I know he is frightened. He fears a cage... as do I." Theoden sighed, but led her to where the guard sat outside the door.

"Let her in," he told the guard. "And let her bring what food and drink she would. But only Lady Eowyn."

"Uncle! What about doctors?"

"Fine! Doctors, too. But no one else!" Theoden said, throwing up his hands. "Especially not Lord Aragorn!"

"Yes, my Lord," the guard bowed. Eowyn went to fetch a light, some dinner, and a drink of wine.

Noise echoed from upstairs. The sound of singing, laughter, and dancing came down to Falenor's cell, but the door was shut and no light came down.

The side of his head throbbed. The guard had come down earlier, back when he was trying to break out of the cell, and had knocked him down. His head had hit the wall with a crack and he knew no more, until he awoke to the sound of merriment from above.

Falenor crouched at the corner of his cell. Warmth seeped from his side; his wound had opened up when he was throwing himself at the walls of his prison.

A bright light flashed, and Falenor lifted an arm to block its rays. Footsteps were coming closer and an orange glow accompanied them. Falenor pressed himself against the wall, fearing the guard had returned.

"Falenor?" a soft voice called.

"Eowyn!" the drover's voice was rasping and cracked. He stood and walked toward where Eowyn stood, her golden hair gleaming in the torch-light.

"Are you all right?" the lady asked. "They hurt you!" Her cool fingers pressed against the bruise that had spread across Falenor's face. The peredhel shifted slightly so that his bloody side was blocked from her gaze.

"I'm fine," he whispered, his eyes devouring the light. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought you food and drink," she told him. Falenor sighed and sank to the floor. Eowyn sat with him and pushed the plate of food beneath the bars.

"Theoden said... no visitors," Falenor said, ignoring the plate of food.

"You must eat!" Eowyn insisted. "The cup will not fit through, but perhaps I can pour it into your mouth..."

"No, Eowyn," he said, shoving the plate back under the bars. "I will not eat."

"Falenor, you are still recovering..." she argued.

"I'm not hungry," the peredhel lied. "Thank you for the light."

"Falenor," Eowyn said hesitantly. "The law in Rohan says that a horse thief loses his right hand. My uncle is willing to bargain with you. He will free you if..."

"I live out my days as his thrall?" Falenor asked. He slipped his hands between the bars and caught Eowyn's fingers. "My lady, there are other cages than this cell. Some you can see. Others..." he shrugged. "I want to run free with my kinsman. If I swear fialty to Theoden... I will never even see my family again."

Eowyn visited him everyday. Other times doctors came to see him. They entered his cell, but a guard stood outside the door at all times. The doctors tut-tutted over him and told him to eat, but he denied every meal.

There was no way to tell the passings of the days, but sometime during the third day Falenor awoke from a feverish sleep to see Eowyn standing at his cell door.

"Please eat," she begged him. "Every day you grow weaker. The doctors say your wounds will not close."

"I cannot," he told her, struggling to sit up.

"In your sleep," Eowyn said hesitantly. "You called out a name over and over. Is... is she your sweetheart?" Falenor gulped slightly and looked up at the lady. There was sorrow and reserve in her brown eyes.

"Yes," he told her. "Yes, she is."

"Will you tell me about her?" Eowyn asked, trying to hide the pain from her voice. Falenor sighed and closed his eyes, picturing Eledhwen in his mind.

"She has blond hair," he said. "Like yours, only fairer still... as though someone had combed moonlight into it. And her skin... touched by the sun. It shines gold in the daytime and... rivals the stars at night. I called her Eledhwen... it means Elf-sheen."

"She sounds very beautiful," Eowyn said, wiping a tear from her cheek.

"She is... when she runs... it is magnificent," Falenor was having a little trouble breathing, Eowyn noticed. "She is the most... beautiful... horse I have ever seen."

"A horse?" Eowyn asked. "Eledhwen is a horse?"

"Well, she's actually a pony," Falenor said, smiling slightly. "She calls me... foster-foal. You sound like her... sometimes." Eowyn laughed softly.

"I thought she was some Elven lady," she admitted. "Like Aragorn's love." Falenor sat up, leaning back on his arms which trembled with the effort.

"Lady Eowyn," he said. "There is something... you should know."

"What is it?"

"I have sworn... not to marry... until my family is safe."

"Then you must live to see that happen."


	40. 40 Dying

**Dying**

"Lord Aragorn?" The ranger turned and saw Eowyn standing at the door.

"Eowyn, what is it?" he asked. The fair woman crossed the room and stood close to Aragorn.

"He is dying," she whispered. "Falenor is dying." Aragorn averted his gaze when he saw that Eowyn was crying. "Will you not go to him? Will you do nothing?"

"King Theoden has forbidden me to see him," Aragorn said uncomfortably.

"He is your friend!" Eowyn hissed. "The guard tells me that Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf, Merry, Pippin, and even Eomer have asked to see him. But not you."

"My lady, please," Aragorn pleaded as servants bustled by.

"Just once," Eowyn begged.

"You say he is dying?" Aragorn asked. Eowyn nodded, tears trickling down her face. "I will try," he promised her.

The guard at the door was Gamling.

"I'm sorry, my lord," he said as Aragorn came near. "But Theoden said not to let you see him." Aragorn looked at Gamling and the guard fidgeted. "All right, though it will be my head," he grumbled, handing Aragorn the key. "Just don't take too long."

Aragorn ran down the stone steps and walked to the end of the hall where a torch was burning. In its light, Falenor lay, pale and tossing in a fevered sleep.

"Falenor!" Aragorn whispered. The drover sat up with a cry, but sank back suddenly.

"Aragorn? Is that you?" Aragorn nodded and knelt beside the bars. "Can you get me out of here?"

"I'm sorry, mellon nin," (_my friend_) Aragorn told him. "I am not even supposed to be here."

"But you are."

"Eowyn says that you are... unwell," Aragorn looked over Falenor. Blood had seeped through the bandages on his forehead and his side was soaked in the sticky red liquid. "Have they not sent doctors for you?"

"They have... and Eowyn has tended me," Falenor said, panting slightly. "The only medicine I need... is the sun on my face and... the wind in my hair." The drover extended a hand and clutched Aragorn's where it rested on the bars. Aragorn frowned at the cold hand. He reached through the bars and felt Falenor's burning cheek.

"You have a fever," he told the peredhel.

"I'm dying... Aragorn," Falenor gasped. "There's no use... trying to hide it from me. I know... I do not have much time... left to me."

"No," Aragorn replied, holding Falenor's cold hand tightly. "I won't let you die in here."

"You must release him!" Aragorn shouted. Theoden sat on his throne, looking over a map with Eomer. "He is dying!"

"Who let you in to see him?" Theoden demanded. Gamling shifted slightly and Theoden's eyes snapped to fix on him.

"I did," the guard admitted.

"Well, Aragorn. I can assure you that my own personal doctors are tending to Falenor..." the king started, but Legolas came from the shadow a a pillar and interrupted him.

"And what do they say?" the Elf demanded. Theoden did not answer.

"Uncle," Eomer said softly. "He saved your life."

"He wouldn't have had to if my guards had been paying attention!" Theoden snapped, glaring at Gamling.

"He is no use to you dead," Eomer insisted. Theoden remained quiet for a second, his eyes fixed on some spot on the map.

"Fine," he whispered at last. "Release him."

Aragorn and Legolas rushed through the door that led to the cells and ran down the steps. Fumbling with the key, Aragorn finally managed to unlock the door of Falenor's cell. He and Legolas lifted the limp peredhel and carried him gently from the dark prison. They climbed the stairs and took Falenor into the hall. The drover blinked in the sudden light and moaned.

"Get him outside," Aragorn told Legolas. They shouldered open the doors of Meduseld and helped Falenor into the sunlight.

The wind picked up, slamming against them. It smacked Legolas off his feet and pushed Aragorn against the wall, but it cradled Falenor. The drover leaned forward into the wind and it held him upright. The horses in the stables trumpeted joyfully.

"The South wind," Falenor said, smiling as the wind flowed around him. "He missed me."

"I can see that," Legolas grumbled, climbing to his feet only to be pushed down again.

"Shh," Falenor hushed the wind. "It wasn't his fault." The wind subsided a little and let Legolas stand. In the sunlight, Falenor visibly grew stronger; his color returned and some vigor came back to his limbs.

"Come on," Aragorn said. "Let's get you back inside before you catch your death." The wind snarled and pushed Aragorn away from Falenor.

"Why?" the drover asked, sounding disappointed.

"Because that shirt used to be white," Aragorn said, fighting to stand in the mighty gust. "And now it's red." Falenor looked down at his dirty and torn shirt.

"Only part of it," he said. The wind died down abruptly and Falenor swayed dangerously. Legolas and Aragorn darted forward in time to catch him.

"Come on," Aragorn said again. The three of them turned and went back into the hall.

"Falenor!" Eowyn shouted, running to greet them.

"Don't!" Aragorn warned her. "He can barely stand." Eowyn leant forward and placed a small kiss on Falenor's cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?"

"For not dying." From nearby, someone wolf-whistled. Falenor strongly suspected Merry and Pippin.


	41. 41 The Palantir

**The Palantir**

That night Falenor slept did not sleep well, because he was lying inside so that he could hold Eowyn's hand. He stood silently and stocked the fire. Eowyn stirred slightly when his hand left hers. He took her fur-lined blanket and pulled it over her feet and shoulders.

"What time is it?" Eowyn asked sleepily.

"Not yet dawn." Eowyn sat up suddenly and grabbed Falenor's hand.

"I dreamed I saw a great wave, climbing over green lands and above the hills," she told him, her brown eyes troubled. He sat on the edge of her couch and brushed a lock of hair from her face. "I stood upon the brink. It was utterly dark in the abyss below. A light shone behind me but I could not turn. I could only stand there, waiting."

"Night changes many thoughts," Falenor told her. "Sleep, Eowyn. Sleep... while you can." The drover stood and left the Golden Hall. It was chilly and he pulled his coat around him, its ends flapping in the breeze. Up ahead, he could see that Aragorn and Legolas were also awake. He joined them and looked toward Mordor.

"You should be asleep," Aragorn told him, casting a side-long glance at the pale drover.

"You know I can't sleep inside," Falenor said with a shrug. He followed their gaze toward the south, and Mordor.

"The stars are veiled," Legolas said softly. "Something stirs in the East. A sleepless malice. The Eye of the enemy is moving." The South wind picked up slightly, and Falenor closed his eyes to greet it.

"Dust and ash," the peredhel announced. "The shrieks of the Nazgul are on the wind, they circle Osgiliath."

"Sauron strikes Gondor," Aragorn said.

"He is here!" Legolas said suddenly. The three of them turned and ran into the hall. Pippin writhed on the floor, clutching the burning Palantir to his chest. Aragorn grabbed the orb from the hobbit, then fell to his knees. Legolas grabbed his friend's shoulders and the Palantir fell from Aragorn's grasp. Falenor reached out a hand to stop it from rolling across the floor.

"No!" Gandalf shouted, but the peredhel's finger's had brushed over the burning surface of the orb.

_I see you._

_Falenor, what do you owe these Men? They have imprisoned you... tried to break you! Come to me... but first, tell me where the Ring is._

_You are strong in blood. The Elven-lords and Kings of Old. Come to me, Falenor. The rangers killed your father, the Elves took you from your mother... have your revenge._

"I do not know revenge!" Falenor said through gritted teeth. "And I do not serve you!" He threw the Palantir from him and the orb bounced across the floor. Gandalf grabbed a cloth and threw it over the Palantir as it rolled past. Falenor found himself lying on his back, panting slightly.

"Falenor!" Eowyn shouted. She ran to him and helped him to his feet.

"I'm fine," he assured her, standing up shakily.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf yelled. Falenor turned and saw the hobbit, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, frozen in terror. The wizard bent down and placed a hand on the Pippin's forehead.

"Look at me," Gandalf commanded. Pippin took a deep shuddering breath as he came to his senses.

"Gandalf," he whispered. "Forgive me." Pippin tried to look away, but Gandalf stopped him.

"Look at me," the Istar repeated, and Pippin turned back to him. "What did you see?"

"A tree... there was a white tree in a courtyard of stone," Pippin babbled. "It was dead. The city was burning."

"Minas Tirith?" Gandalf asked. "I that what you saw?"

"I saw... I saw Him!" Pippin squeaked. "I could hear His voice in my head!"

"And what did you tell Him? Speak!"

"He asked me my name," Pippin recalled. "I didn't answer. He hurt me!"

"What did you tell Him about Frodo and the Ring?" Gandalf demanded. Pippin trembled for a second before replying.

"Nothing." The wizard sighed with relief and stood up.

"And you Aragorn?" He asked, but the ranger shook his head. "Falenor, what did He say to you?" All eyes were on the drover now, and he tossed his head nervously.

"He... knew me," Falenor said at last.

"How do you know?"

"He called me... by name," the peredhel closed his eyes and exhaled. "And by blood."

"Did he ask about the Ring?" Gandalf demanded.

"Yes, He wanted me to find it and bring it to Him."

"What did you say?"

"I think everyone heard." The wizard look at him a moment, then nodded.

"Get some sleep," Gandalf told them all. "Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

"As if we could sleep after that!" Eowyn said, taking Falenor's hand and trying to draw him to his bedroll by her couch. He planted his feet and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Eowyn," he told her. "But I cannot sleep under a roof."

"Well then, we'll sleep outside," Eowyn said.

"No, Eowyn. It is too cold," Falenor disentangled his fingers from hers and giving her a small bow. "I'll see you in the morning."

Falenor placed a hand on Pippin's shoulder. The two hobbits, Falenor, Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, and Gandalf had come to speak with Theoden. The drover had been giving Theoden a wide berth: he did not know why he had been freed, but he was sure it wasn't out of the kindness of the king's heart.

"There was no lie in Pippin's eyes," Gandalf finished, speaking as though the hobbit wasn't there. "A fool... but an honest fool he remains. He told Sauron nothing of Frodo and the Ring. Nor did Falenor."

"We've been strangely fortunate," the Istar continued. "Falenor scried the winds last night and learned that the city of Osgiliath is under attack. Pippin saw in the Palantir a glimpse of the enemy's plan. Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith."

"His defeat at Helm's Deep showed our enemy one thing: he knows the heirs of Elendil have come forth. Men are not as weak as he supposed; there is courage still, strength enough perhaps to challenge him. Sauron fears this. He will not risk the peoples of Middle-Earth uniting under one banner." Falenor opened his mouth to protest, but Gandalf cut him off.

"I know that you do not claim allegiance with Men, Falenor. But your Elvish blood is something Sauron fears even more. He does not see your mother's blood in you, but rather that of Gilgalad: the Elven lord who first forged the alliance of Men and Elves and led the attack on Sauron's forces."

"Tell me... why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours?" Theoden asked, rankled by the references to Falenor's bloodlines. "What do we owe Gondor?"

"I will go," Aragorn offered quietly.

"No!" The Istar said vehemently.

"They _must _be warned!"

"They _will _be," Gandalf assured him. The wizard stepped close and whispered something in Aragorn's ear, then raised his voice and addressed all of them. "Understand this: things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I ride for Minas Tirith." Gandalf turned and looked at the hobbits. "And I won't be going alone."


	42. 42 Hard in the Mouth

A/N: The song is based off of "Pretty Boy Floyd" by Woody Guthrie

**Hard in the Mouth**

The peredhel was staring out over the plain, watching the Rohirrim drill. His right hand clutched the brooch of Anduin which lay over his heart.

"Falenor?" The drover started slightly and turned, smiling down at Merry, Freda, and Eothain.

"You said you tell me a story," Eothain reminded him.

"So I did," Falenor sighed and ran his hand through his black hair. He had washed and cut it once more so that it was about an inch shorter than Merry's. "And you dragged your sister and Merry along, too."

"You don't have to tell us," Merry said, but his voice was hopeful. "If you're too tired." The hobbit had been quiet and distant since Pippin had left. Falenor smiled and led the way inside.

"The story of Almelui, wasn't it?" He said, remembering. "That one is a verse, actually." He sat down in the hall, casting a wary glance at Theoden who was in council with some advisors.

"Come gather round me children, a story I will tell," he began, pulling Freda onto his lap.

"About Almelui the Outlaw, Doriath knew him well.

It was in Menegroth on a summer afternoon

His wife beside him in the wagon, as into town they rode.

When an Elven Lord approached them in a manner rather rude

Using vulgar words of language, and his wife she overheard.

So Almelui grabbed a long chain, and the Elf he grabbed a bow

And in the fight that followed, he laid that Elf Lord low.

The Elf Lord lost his life that day but just before he died

He fired a poisoned arrow shaft into the woman's side.

Almelui took to the trees and timber to live a life of shame

Every crime in all the Northlands was added to his name.

But many a starving farmer the same story has told

How an outlaw brought them winter grain and saved their little home.

Others tell about a stranger come begging for a meal

And underneath his napkin left a pound of good silver.

It was on Midsummer's Eve, it was in Menegroth

There came a whole cart load of supplies with a note that said:

'Well you say that I'm an outlaw, you say that I'm a thief

Here's Midsummer dinner for those in need of some relief.

And as through your life you travel, as through your life you roam,

You will never see an outlaw drive a family from their home'."

"For once can you not tell an outlaw story in front of the king?" Legolas asked. The Elf was leaning against a pillar and had been listening for a while.

"It isn't finished," Falenor told him.

"Yes, mother says it's rude to interrupt!" Freda rebuked the Elf-prince who smiled in surprise.

"What happened next?" Merry asked Falenor. The drover had opened his mouth to continue when the doors of the hall banged open and Aragorn ran in.

"The Beacons of Minas Tirith!" the ranger shouted, rushing passed the story-teller. "The Beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid!" Aragorn slid to a stop in front of Theoden.

"And _Rohan_ will answer," Theoden decided firmly. "Assemble the army at Dunharrow, as many men as can be found. You have two days," he told Eomer. The captain nodded and made to leave but the king grabbed his shoulder. "On the third, we ride for Gondor. And _war_."

Eomer left to summon the Rohirrim, giving Eowyn one last glance.

"Gamling..." Theoden turned.

"Lord." The guard cringed slightly. He was still expecting a punishment for allowing Aragorn to see Falenor.

"Make haste across the Riddermark. Summon every able-bodied man to Dunharrow." The soldier nodded and departed after Eomer.

The Rohirrim were preparing to depart. Theoden stood on the porch of the Golden Hall, wearing his armor and surveying the horses and riders below.

"Excuse me." Theoden turned and saw the hobbit, Merry, standing there. "I have a sword. Please accept it." The hobbit kneeled and offered his short sword to Theoden. "I offer you my service, Theoden King."

Theoden helped Merry to his feet and gave the hobbit a grim smile. "And gladly I accept it," he told him. "You shall be Merriadoc, esquire of Rohan." The hobbit grinned and ran off, down the stairs toward where Falenor stood. The drover looked at Theoden with narrowed eyes, and the king glared back.

"Will you not give us your blessing?" Eowyn asked. Theoden turned and saw his niece watching him. "He is an honorable man." The king looked down at Falenor, and saw that the drover had lifted Freda into his arms and was spinning her around. The child giggled and spread her arms.

"He is not honorable," Theoden said at last. "He is a thief and a drover. But if that is where your heart truly lies, I admit that his is also brave, trustworthy, and loyal." Eowyn smiled, her face lighting up with joy. "And he will make a good father one day," Theoden added. His niece blushed and looked modestly downward.

Down on the ground below, Falenor gave Freda back to her mother and went to mount Brego. He still refused to let the gelding be saddled, instead riding around bare-back. But he had allowed someone to put a bridle on the dark bay, specially tailored so that it was missing the bit.

"Horsemen, hmph!" Gimli grumbled from where he sat on Arod behind Legolas. "I wish I could muster a legion of Dwarves, fully armed and filthy."

"Filthy?" Falenor asked, steering Brego to stand near Arod. "So that they can knock the enemy over with their scent? These are orcs we are talking of, Master Gimli. A little smell won't do much."

"Your kinsmen may have no need to ride to war," Legolas told Gimli. "I fear war already marches on their own lands."

"Move! Come on, move!" Falenor turned and saw Merry mounted on a little white pony. The pony was chomping up grass contentedly, ignoring her rider's demands. Falenor trotted Brego up to the pony and leaned down to grab her reins near the bit.

"Hard-mouthed," he said angrily. "You should not let her eat while the bit is in her mouth."

"I can't stop her!"

"Yes you can!" Falenor laughed. "Those leather straps called reins are there for a reason! Just don't tug them like this one's last master did. Ponies with hard mouths don't sell."

"Now is the hour, Riders of Rohan," Eomer shouted. "Oaths you have taken! Now fulfill them all! To Lord and Land!" He kicked his stallion Firefoot into a gallop and rode out of the gates of Edoras. The Rohirrim, together with Merry, Falenor, Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn, Eowyn, and Theoden flowed out of the gates.

"Tulo!" (_Come!_)Falenor called to Merry's pony. "Sinome, gwathel nin!" (_Here, my sister!_) The little pony's ears flicked forward and she followed Brego closely.

"Yes!" Merry yelled as the pony broke into a gallop.

"Falenor, come ride beside me," Theoden called suddenly. The peredhel blinked, wary of the king still, but he pulled Brego out of line and urged him forward. Merry's pony tried to follow, but Falenor turned and caught sight of her.

"Al, tethin min," (_No, little one_) he told her. "Deri vi taeg." (_Stay in line_). The white pony snorted and fell back, but she stubbornly refused to get back in line. Falenor smiled to himself as he steered Brego into a space between Aragorn and Theoden.

"I know how much Eowyn cares for you," the king said after an awkward silence.

"Do you wish me to refuse her?" Falenor asked. Aragorn laid a warning hand on Falenor's wrist.

"I want to know if your intentions are honorable!" Theoden seemed to have some difficultly in keeping his tone civil. Falenor turned and looked back at where Eowyn rode, keeping up easily with the men.

"For months I have had no word of my people," Falenor said at last. "I will return to them and see them safe before I marry."

"Can I trust your word?" The king asked.

"I don't know, can you?" Falenor replied, shaking off Aragorn's hand. "It is up to you. I am a drover, yes. I am a thief, yes. But if I get out of this fight alive, I am going to live up in Brethil, the Northland, and there I will breed the Rhaw Nur until either they are established in those hills or I am dead. Can you trust my word?" Theoden said nothing, considering the peredhel's words.

"I will hold you to that," he said at last.


	43. 43 The Muster of Rohan

**The Muster of Rohan**

When they arrived at last at Dunharrow the king and his men rode through the encampment, surveying the army gathered there.

"Grimbold, how many?" Theoden asked, seeing the captain in command of one of the groups of riders.

"I bring five hundred men from the Westfold, my Lord."

"We have three hundred more from Fenmarch," Gamling told the king as he passed.

"Where are the riders from Snowbourn?" Theoden inquired.

"None have come, my Lord."

Theoden led his riders up a steep path that went up the mountain. There the Rohirrim set up a camp on a ledge that overlooked the entire valley below. Aragorn and the king surveyed the army gathered below.

"Six thousand spears," Theoden sighed. "Less than half of what I'd hoped for."

"Six thousand will not be enough to break the lines of Mordor," Aragorn told the king quietly.

"More will come," Theoden said, clapping the ranger on the back.

"Every hour lost hastens Gondor's defeat," Aragorn argued. "We have till dawn. Then we must ride." Theoden nodded, then turned at a horse's frightened whinny. Legolas and Gimli came towards Aragorn, watching the horses fidget and rear.

"The horses are restless, and the men are quiet," the Elf observed.

"They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain," Eomer said as he joined them.

"That road _there_, where does that lead?" Gimli asked, nodding down a path that disappeared into a narrow cleft in the slope.

"It is the road to the Dimholt; the door under the mountain," Legolas told the dwarf.

"None who venture there ever return," Eomer nodded. "That mountain is evil." Aragorn peered down the path as a frightened horse was led across it. The horse bucked and reared, loath to cross the path. As Aragorn watched, he thought he saw a shadowy profile standing in the narrow path.

"Aragorn," Gimli interrupted his thoughts abruptly. "Let's find some food."

"Come, Falenor!" Legolas called. The drover stood to one side of the path, frozen. His eyes were wide with the same terror that filled the horses.

"Falenor?" Aragorn asked, laying his hand on the peredhel's arm. Falenor did not respond. Aragorn tugged slightly but the drover had planted his feet firmly. For a brief flash Aragorn thought he saw the profile of a horse surrounding Falenor.

The stallion's ears were pinned back, the whites of his eyes visible.

"Falenor!" Aragorn shouted. The horse winked out of existence and the drover looked at Aragorn. Slowly, hesitantly, he allowed himself to be led across the path to where Legolas and Gimli stood waiting.

"Did you see that?" Aragorn asked Legolas. The Elf narrowed his grey eyes and nodded.

"See what?" Gimli asked. Someone dropped a crate nearby and Falenor skittered, shying away from the sound. Once more the stallion winked into being around him.

"Falenor!" Legolas and Aragorn shouted together.

"What?" the drover asked as the ghostly horse faded and disappeared.

A hooded and cloaked rider guided his horse up the steep path to the upper encampment. A guard stopped him and the rider spoke quietly with him. Soon the guard pointed and the rider dismounted and led his horse in that direction.

Stooping down, the cloaked figure entered a tent. Legolas, Gimli, and Falenor slept inside, the dwarf snoring loudly. The stranger went to the peredhel and woke him with a gentle shake. Falenor's eyes flew open and the image of the stallion flared into existence. When the drover saw who the stranger was, however, the horse disappeared as he got up and followed the man from the tent.

"Mae govannen, thel'ion," (_Well met, sister-son_) Elrond said, pulling his hood off.

"My lord Elrond," Falenor greeted him with a bow. "Why came you to Dunharrow?"

"I came on an errand, but I will stop a moment for you," the Elf told him. "I bring news of the Rhaw Nur."

"Is all well with them?" Falenor asked urgently.

"Twenty mares are with foal," Elrond informed him with a smile. "Yes, they are well."

"And Eledhwen?"

"She also bears a foal." Falenor closed his eyes and sent a silent prayer of thanks to Varda.

"Falenor, you ride to war but _not _to victory," Elrond interrupted the peredhel's thoughts. "You are outnumbered, Falenor. You cannot do this alone."

"There are no more," the drover said softly.

"There are those who dwell near the Falls of Rauros." Falenor was silent for a moment.

"I will not call on them," he said at last. "I will not ask them to fight."

"You _must_," Elrond insisted. "If Sauron takes Minas Tirith, if Gondor falls to the Shadow, other dark forces will be unleashed. My scouts tell me of a great amassing of goblins in the Misty Mountains. Your herd stands in their path."

"Eledhwen!" Falenor said suddenly. He turned towards Brego, but Elrond stopped him.

"It would be too late if you went to her now," the Elf lord said. "You have no other choice." When Falenor hesitated, Elrond took a ring from beneath his cloak. Its golden band glittered in the starlight and the flames flickering on its surface made it look as though the pony embossed there was running. "Put aside the drover. Become who you were born to be."

Uncertainly, Falenor extended his hand and took the Ring of Calenor. When he slipped it on his finger all the horses in the upper encampment and in the valley below greeted him with soft whickers and bowed slightly.

"It is time," Elrond said. Falenor closed his eyes and sent his spirit galloping one last time. It ran over the plains, leaping rivers easily and bounding across canyons until at last it reached the hills surrounding the Falls of Rauros.

His spirit found them easily, a herd of wild horses. When he came among them they greeted him, nuzzling up against him and neighing to him.

"Manke Braig?" (_Where is Braig?_) he asked. The horses parted slightly and the chestnut stallion pushed his way through. Falenor extended and hand and placed it on the stallion's blaze.

"Manke tegi inuroch?" (_Where is the lead mare?_) Braig whinnied softly and a blue roan, the color of a misty dusk, stepped forward. Falenor lifted his other hand and placed it on her grey flecked forehead.

He breathed softly into the stallion's nose, and the horse returned the gesture. Falenor inhaled the hawthorn and apple scent, then turned to the mare and exhaled for her. She breathed in his scent and gave him her own: pine sap and clear water.

"Im u'innas le agor sen bach amin, gwedir nin, gwathel nin," (_I cannot ask you to do this thing for me, my brother, my sister_) he sighed. "Heniro, andelu i ven." (_Understand, the road is dangerous_). He explained the task to them and in their minds he planted a picture of the White City. He had never been there, but he had formed the picture in his mind based off the descriptions Boromir had said.

Falenor's spirit came back to his body in a swift swoop, causing him to stumble slightly. He looked around and saw Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli standing in a well-lit part of the camp. He ran to them and grabbed Hasufel's reins.

"I am coming with you," he told Aragorn.

"You do not even know where I am going."

"You are taking the Dimholt Road."

"Yes, and you are terrified of that path."

Falenor shrugged slightly. "I am coming with you."

"Even if you have not learned of the stubbornness of dwarves," Legolas told Aragorn. "Then you must have heard the stories of the Rhaw Nur. Falenor will come with us, or he will follow us."

"You three are impossible," Aragorn sighed. "Go get Brego." Falenor turned and whistled sharply, causing Brego to trot out of the tents. The gelding was wearing his bridle, but he had clearly chewed through the leather. The reins now hung in two long straps, but Falenor mounted him anyway.

Eowyn ran forward suddenly and tried to stop Brego.

"Why are you doing this?" she demanded. "The war lies to the East. You cannot leave on the eve of battle!"

"Eowyn," Falenor sighed, turning away from her.

"We need all of you here," she insisted.

"Why did you come here?" he asked.

"Do you not know?" Eowyn demanded.

"Eowyn... Eledhwen and a score of the Rhaw Nur are with foal," he told her. "I cannot abandon them. They are my _family_. If they are gone... then it is but a shadow and a thought that you love. I cannot give you what you seek." He stroked her honey colored hair and turned away. "I have wished you joy since first I saw you."

As the three horses turned for the Dimholt road soldiers gathered to watch them go.

"What's happening?" they called to the riders. "Where's he going? I don't understand. Lord Aragorn!" The horses shied from the path at first, but Falenor had steeled his nerves.

"Boe tolle i ven," (_It is necessary to go on that road_) he told them. Arod, Hasufel, and Brego then went forward, the power of Calenor's legacy weighing on each of them.

"Why does he leave on the eve of battle?" someone asked behind them as Brego's black tail disappeared between the two rocks. If there was any response to that, Falenor didn't hear it. It was as if the road was plunged into silence and he would have thought himself deaf if not for the sound of Brego's hoofbeats.


	44. 44 The Paths of the Dead

**The Paths of the Dead**

They rode in this silence for a time, until the sun came over the narrow cliffs and shone upon them. At first the road had been so narrow that the horses could barely squeeze through, but now it widened so that the three could walk beside each other. Occasionally a bush or scrub clung to the thin soil, but otherwise the mountains path was barren and flat.

"What kind of army would linger in such of place?" Gimli asked.

"One that is cursed," Legolas told him. "Long ago the Men of the Mountain swore an oath to the last king of Gondor, to come to his aid, to fight. But when the time came, when Gondor's need was dire, they fled, vanishing into the darkness of the mountain. And so Isildur curse them, never to rest, until they had fulfilled their pledge."

Falenor clutched his coat around him and listened for any snatch of breeze, but none came over the tall cliffs.

"Who shall call them from the grey twilight?" Legolas asked. "The forgotten people. The heir of him to whom the oath they swore. From the north shall he come. Need shall drive him. He shall pass the door to the Paths of the Dead."

As the Elf spoke they came upon the end of the path. It was a door, adorned with skulls and strange symbols. The four of them dismounted and faced the hole in the mountain.

"The very warmth of my blood seems stolen away," Gimli remarked.

" 'The way is shut'," Legolas read the symbols about the door. " 'It was made by those who were dead, and the dead keep it. The way is shut'." A sudden blast of air exploded from the tunnel, frightening the horses. They reared and fled, Falenor close behind them.

"Falenor!" Aragorn shouted after him. The young man turned, his eyes wide with terror, and the shadowy horse's profile engulfed him. But now it strengthened and became firm, a wild, grey-dappled stallion turned and fled back down the Dimholt road. Aragorn turned and glared at the door.

"I do not fear death!" he said, unsheathing his sword and entering the doorway. Legolas followed close behind, but Gimli hesitated.

"Well this is something unheard of!" The dwarf growled to himself. "An Elf will go underground where a Dwarf dare not! Ah, I'd never hear the end of it!" With that he charged into the mists emitted from the door and nearly ran into Legolas's back.

_Run! Run and do not look back! _The stallion's instincts screamed. But something, some bond of loyalty, pulled at Falenor, and he kept stopping to look back until Hasufel, Arod, and Brego were far ahead.

_What are you doing? You cannot fight that malice! _Falenor turned back and slowly, hesitantly walked back down the Dimholt road. _Are you crazy? You'll be killed!_

The stallion began to fade and its form was torn apart by the wind issuing from the door.

"I fear not death," Falenor said softly. "Only a cage. And I have already faced that and come away u'rusva, unbroken."

Aragorn had lit a torch and in its light he saw piles of skulls.

"What is it?" Gimli asked Legolas. "What do you see?"

"I see shapes of men and of horses," the Elf told him, looking into the darkness ahead of Aragorn's torch.

"Where?" Gimli demanded.

"Pale banners like shreds of cloud. Spears rise like winter-thickets through a shroud of mist. The dead are following. They have been summoned," Legolas said, leaning over and inspecting a strange stone table inlaid with bones.

"The Dead?" Gimli asked nervously. "Summoned? I knew that. Very good. Very good. Legolas!" The Elf and Aragorn had moved a little ahead and Gimli ran to catch up with them.

The mist curled and seemed to form skeletal arms that reached out and tried to grab their arms. Legolas and Aragorn brushed these aside while Gimli blew the misty shapes back into the fog.

"Do not look down," Aragorn warned. Gimli promptly looked down when his feet stepped on something and cracked it. The dwarf gave a small cry when he realized that the floor was paved with hundreds of skulls. Every step he took let out another crack.

Aragorn led the way down a narrow passage and the three of them ran into a huge underground hall. A large doorway crested a flight of steps and was framed by immense columns. They started towards it but a disembodied voice stopped them.

"Who enters my domain?" The voice rasped, menacing and quiet. A green form flickered and appeared on the steps leading to the doorway.

"One who will have your allegiance," Aragorn answered.

"The dead do not suffer the living to pass," the ghostly king replied.

"You _will _suffer me," Aragorn told him, brandishing his torch. The King merely laughed and the sound echoed around the chamber. Ghostly walls were illuminated and an entire city of the dead appeared. Dead soldiers walked from the city and surrounded the living.

"They way is shut," the King of the Ghosts rasped once more. "It was made by those who are dead. And the dead keep it. They way is shut. Now you must die." The ghost king advanced on Aragorn and smiled, his dead skin rippling in the unnatural gesture.

"First your friend," he said. Two ghost stepped forward from the crowd and in their arms was a struggling figure.

"Falenor!" Legolas shouted. The Elf drew an arrow and shot it at one of the shadowy guards, but the arrow passed right through his transparent head. The guard smiled and pressed a knife to Falenor's throat. The drover stopped struggling, his eyes wide in terror.

"I summon you to fulfill your oath," Aragorn shouted, drawing the ghosts' attention.

"None but the King of Gondor may command me!" The King growled, advancing with drawn blade. Aragorn drew Anduril and parried the ghost king's blow. The King stepped back in surprise, but Aragorn seized his ghostly body and placed the blade to the king's transparent throat.

"That blade was broken!" the King of the Dead spluttered.

"I has been remade," Aragorn said. "Release the boy." The two soldiers hesitated for a moment.

"Do as he says!" the king snapped and the ghostly hands withdrew from Falenor. The peredhel ran forward and cowered behind Legolas. Aragorn released the King with a shove.

"Fight for us, and regain your honor. What say you?" He surveyed the dead soldiers who crowded closer. Falenor whimpered slightly. "What say you?"

"You waste your time, Aragorn!" Gimli growled, the ghosts beginning to swirl around him. "They had no honor in life, they have none now in death."

"I am Isildur's heir," Aragorn swung Anduril around him, carving an open space in the ghostly press of bodies. "Fight for me and I will hold your oaths fulfilled! What say you?"

The Dead King smirked and began to laugh, he and his army fading.

"You have my word!" Aragorn insisted, watching the last wisps of green mist evaporate. "Fight, and I will release you from this living death! What say you?"

"Stand, you traitors!" Gimli growled, brandishing his axe. The ground began to shake and skulls rolled across the floor. The four of them turned as the doorway cracked and thousands of skulls poured forth.

"Out!" Aragorn shouted. They ran, but were nearly swept away by the sea of bones. "Legolas! Run!" The four of them fought through the cascading skulls and ran down a passage, emerging in the sunlight beyond.

Coming out of the door in the mountainside, Aragorn saw a fleet of black ships sailing up the river. He fell to his knees in despair. Falenor, meanwhile, had curled up on the grass and was shaking violently. Legolas bent down and tried to speak to him, but the peredhel would not, or could not, hear the Elf in his terror.

Suddenly a sound came from the doorway and the mist pouring from it solidified into the Dead King. Aragorn stood as the ghost approached him.

"We fight!" the King rasped.

"What did you do to him?" Legolas demanded as Falenor winced and cowered at the voice of the King of the Dead.

"Nothing," the Dead King smiled. Suddenly Falenor flew at the King with a snarl, Aragorn and Legolas barely catching and holding him back.

"You broke it!" the peredhel snarled.

"Falenor, this is not the time!" Aragorn shouted, trying the stop the drover. Falenor opened his fist and inside were two splintered pieces of wood. The Trumpet of Ilayilia had cracked, its broken halves lay crumbling in Falenor's hand.

The corsairs of Umbar sailed up the river Anduin. The river's current was strong and it threatened to push the ships back to the sea. Aragorn, Falenor, Legolas, and Gimli stood alone on the banks of the river watching the ships approach.

"You may go no further," Aragorn called to the black ships. "You will not enter Gondor."

"Who are you to deny us passage?" the captain demanded.

"Legolas," Aragorn instructed the Elf quietly. "Fire a warning shot past the bosun's ear." Legolas strung an arrow and prepared to fire it.

"Mind your aim!" Gimli told him. Legolas spared the dwarf a roll of the eyes. As the Elf fired, however, Gimli nudged the bow causing the arrow to fly and hit a pirate squarely in the chest. The corsair gave a cry and he fell from the deck of the ship, dead.

"Oh!" Gimli exclaimed in mock surprise. "That's it. We warned you. Prepare to be boarded." The pirates laughed uproariously at the threat.

"Boarded?" the captain chuckled. "By you and whose army?"

"This army," Aragorn said calmly as the King of the Dead appeared behind him. The King charged straight through Aragorn leading his men in a charge over the water to the ships. The pirates drew back from the edge of the ships, yelling in terror as the green wave climbed onto the decks.

"Fine, they're useful in a fight," Falenor said, adjusting the strap of his saber belt. "But I won't forgive them for breaking my horn."

"I don't expect you to," Aragorn shrugged, watching one of the boats turn and make its way toward the shore where they stood. "Can you do something about the river?" Falenor frowned and knelt on the bank. He place a hand in the water and allowed it to swirl over him.

"Nen o Anduin, (_Waters of the Anduin,_

lasto beth daer _Listen to my voice;_

Ribdan bole nen _Flow back upon your waters_

Hortha cair Gondor" _Speed ships to Gondor._)

The river's flow slowed for a moment then came to a stop. Gradually, the current reversed, streaming back over Falenor's hand. The river sped away from the Sea, back to its sources in the Misty and Grey Mountains.


	45. 45 The Battle of Pelennor Fields

A/N to Werepanther: What do those faces mean?

roxasrules: Is that a bad thing or a good thing?

**The Battle of Pelennor Fields**

The horns sounded from over the ridge as the Riders of Rohan appeared upon the crest of the hill. For a moment the army of Rohan paused in long lines, surveying the vast army of orcs before them.

"Eomer! Take your eored down the left side," Theoden commanded, kicking Snowmane forward and cantering along the line.

"Yes, my lord," Eomer replied, turning Firefoot and riding to the far left.

"Gamling, follow the King's banner down the center," Theoden continued. "Grimbold, take your company right, after you pass the wall. Forth, and fear no darkness!" The king unsheathed his spear and ran before his riders.

"Arise! Arise! Riders of Theoden!" he shouted to his men. "Spears shall be shaken, shields shall be splintered! A sword-day! A red day, _ere the sun rises_!" His sword rattled against the row of spears.

"Ride now, ride now, ride! Ride for ruin and the world's ending!" Turning, Theoden lifted his swords and shouted. "Death!"

The Rohirrim echoed his cry: "Death!"

"Forth Eorlings!" Snowmane began to trot forward as the charge was sounded, the Rohirrim moving behind him. The stallion broke into a gallop at Theoden's urging and rushed down the slope.

"Death!" the Rohirrim shouted once more. Orc arrows rained down among them, but still Theoden led the charge.

"Death!" he called as the Rohirrim crashed through the orc lines. Eomer's group plunged into the orc reserves with a shout. The Rohirrim's chargers knocked the orcs and their weapons aside as they routed the enemy.

But Grimbold was struggling, for most of the orc army was gathered towards the walls where he was trying to advance.

Suddenly a trumpeting bugle sounded and Theoden turned to see a chestnut stallion rearing against the dark sky. The horse, riderless and alone, plunged into the fight beside Grimbold's men.

A great host of horses, some thousand all told, plunged over the ridge without hesitation. They cut through the orcs, fighting with teeth and hooves and routing the enemy from the city. It was a wondrous sight that Theoden would have stopped to watch, had he not been engaged in his own battle.

"Drive them back to the river!" Eomer was shouting.

"Make safe the city!" Theoden called as the Rohirrim drove away the orcs. A horse screamed in terror and tried to bolt. The king turned and saw giant war Oliphaunts running across the plains. A trumpet sounded as the orcs scurried past the Mumakil.

An answering bugle came and Theoden saw the chestnut stallion facing off the Mumakil, his four hooves planted firmly. The herds of wild horses moved forward and clumped behind the stallion.

"Reform the line!" Theoden shouted, inspired by the horses' stance. "Reform the line! Sound the charge!" The wild horses did not hesitate, but galloped forward to meet the Mumakil head on.

"Rohirrim! Charge!" Theoden commanded as Gamling sounded his horn. The king winced as many of the wild horses were crushed beneath the Oliphaunts' feet. The chestnut stallion screamed, dodging through the legs of one of the beasts and snapping at its thick hide.

The Rohirrim rushed to the wild horses' aid, flinging spears and shooting arrows at the Mumakil, but the weapons stuck in the Oliphaunts' thick hides.

A blue roan was dancing in front of a Mumakil; she ran one way, then another as the Oliphaunt's large head followed her. The mare made larger and larger passes, forcing the Mumakil to swing its head wide to follow her. Then with a large crash the Oliphaunt's head collided with another Mumakil which stumbled. The litter it carried on its back lurched and sent several Haradrim falling to their deaths.

Another Oliphaunt crumbled to the ground nearby.

"Aim for the head!" Eomer shouted, shooting an arrow at the Mumakil which reared up with a wail.

"Bring it down!" Theoden shouted encouragement as the Oliphaunt was riddled with spears and arrows. "Bring it down! Bring it down!"

A rider threw their spear and impaled the Mumakil's leg. The Oliphaunt fell and knocked the rider and horse out of the way. Theoden thought that the rider could not have possibly survived the falling beast, but they scrambled from the dust and stood, sword in hand.

Orcs, who had come up behind the Mumakil, attacked Theoden. He fought them off and the rider held their own in hand to hand combat. Something was very familiar about the rider; the slight frame and golden hair indicating a young boy... or a woman.

Theoden was distracted as Merry came out of nowhere, leaping on the orcs attacking the familiar rider. Theoden scowled as he parried a blow and thrust his sword into the orc. He had specifically ordered the hobbit to stay behind.

A large, mutated orc was exchanging blows with the rider, who fought well but was clearly outmatched. The chestnut stallion leapt over the body of the fallen Mumakil and attacked the orc. He kicked out and bit at the orc angrily, then pranced away if the orc tried to land a blow. Finally the orc retreated, clutching his wounded side, but the stallion gave chase and disappeared from sight.

"Rally to me!" Theoden shouted, trying to gather the remnants of his army. "To me!" A screech filled the air and the king turned to see of Nazgul soaring over the battle. Theoden knew that the wyvern was coming for him, but he could not ready himself in time.

The black beast grabbed Snowmane with its teeth and threw the horse to the ground. Snowmane landed, dead, on top of Theoden, trapping his master beneath his body. Theoden tried to sit up, but something in him had broken.

"Feast off his flesh," the Witch-King commanded the fell beast. The wyvern approached, but a rider blocked its path.

"I will kill you if you touch him." Theoden must have been dreaming, for the voice sounded so much like...

"Do not come between the Nazgul and his prey," the Witch-King snarled. Theoden wanted to tell the rider to leave, that it was over for him, but the rider merely unsheathed their sword.

Theoden watched as the wyvern snapped at the rider, who dodged nimbly. The rider turned and, lifting their sword in a mighty blow, decapitated the monster. As the wyvern crumbled and twitched, the mighty Witch-King of Angmar stood, looming over the rider. The wraith uncurled a long mace and rattled its chain mockingly.

He swung the mace, but the rider ducked beneath it. The Witch-King attacked again, this time striking the rider's shield which shattered. The rider fell to the ground with a cry, clutching a dislocated shoulder.

The wraith opened his arms, the mace in one hand and the sword in the other. Dropping the mace, the Witch-King grabbed the rider by the throat and lifted them up.

"You fool!" his voice laughed through the empty helmet. "No man can slay the Lord of the Nazgul! Die now!"

Merry came crawling up from behind and stabbed the wraith behind the knee with the dagger of the Noldorin given to him by Galadriel. The hobbit fell back, screaming as his arm seared in pain.

The rider stood before the Witch-King, who had fallen to his knees. The rider removed their helmet, and long locks of honey-blond hair tumbled down their back.

"I am no man," Eowyn said quietly. Then lifting her sword with a shout she stabbed the wraith in his helmet. The Witch-King's armor imploded and he gave a long, terrible scream as his body crumpled into a heap.

Eowyn also collapsed, but she crawled around Snowmane's body and came to where Theoden lay. A trickle of blood flowed from the King's mouth as he reached up a hand and stroked Eowyn's face.

"I know your face," he whispered. "Eowyn. My eyes darken."

"No," Eowyn insisted, feeling Theoden's forehead. "No, I'm going to save you."

"You already did," the king told her. "Eowyn, my body is broken. You have to let me go. I go to my fathers... in whose mighty company... I shall not feel ashamed."

They were silent for a moment and then Theoden said her name one last time, before dying in her arms.

The black corsair ships pulled smoothly into port. If the orcs waiting for them there had been any cleverer than rats, they would have noticed that the sails were limp and unfilled.

"Late, as usual!" Skully, a captain of the orcs, snarled. "Pirate scum! There's work that needs doing." The orcs waited for a moment, finally noticing that the ships' decks were empty.

"Come on, ya sea rats!" Skully called again. "Get out off your ships!"

Aragorn leapt over the side of the ship and landed on the port, Legolas, Falenor, and Gimli close behind. The four of them stood, weapons drawn and advanced on the orcs. Skully laughed at the small assault and nodded to his orcs.

"There are plenty for both of us!" Gimli told Legolas. "May the best dwarf win!" As they ran forward the dead army appeared behind them. The ghosts outran the living and trampled the orcs beneath them.

Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and Falenor fought alongside the dead against the orcs. They charged onto the Fields of Pelennor and to the aid of the Rohirrim and the wild horses.

"Fifteen, sixteen," Legolas counted, shooting down orcs. "Seventeen."

"Twenty-nine!" Gimli lied loudly. Falenor had drawn his two sabers and was cutting his own path through the orcs, taking out his anger at the sundering of the Trumpet of Ilayilia upon the creatures.

As they fought towards the city, Eowyn crawled away from the snarling orc general, Gothmog.

"Merry!" she called, trying to find the hobbit. Gothmog picked up a mace and aimed it to strike at the woman. Eowyn desperately reached for a dead man's sword, but its hilt slipped from her grasp. Gothmog lifted the mace higher and was about to strike Eowyn when Falenor slammed into the orc's body.

Gothmog turned and tried to hit the peredhel with his mace, but Falenor blocked his blow with his sabers. The orc general snarled, but Falenor smiled at something behind Gothmog's back. When the orc turned to see what Falenor was looking at he came eye to eye with the angry chestnut stallion.

The stallion butted the orcs head with his own and sent Gothmog tumbling onto Falenor's sword.

"Eowyn?" Falenor called, turning to search for her, but the woman had gone. Suddenly a burning pain erupted in his thigh. Falenor looked down and saw an arrow sticking out of his leg, having torn its way into the fleshy muscle there. The peredhel snapped off the shaft and prayed to Eru that the tip hadn't been poisoned.

"Legolas!" Aragorn shouted from nearby. Falenor turned and saw a Mumakil charging down the Elf-prince. Legolas neatly avoided the Oliphaunt and leapt onto its leg. He climbed nimbly toward the top and perched on the Mumakil's back. Legolas began to shoot enemies off the litter, counting as he went.

"Thirty-three, thirty-four," he said, dodging as a Haradrim attacked him and slid off the Oliphaunt's flank. Legolas grabbed a rope and swung along the Mumkil's side.

"Legolas!" Falenor shouted, tossing a knife up the the Elf who caught it and cut the saddle rope. The litter slid off the Mumakil and Legolas used its fall to climb back onto the Oliphaunt's back.

The Elf walked to the head of the creature and shot it in the skull with his arrows. As the slain Mumakil fell, Legolas gracefully slid down its trunk and landed softly right in front of Gimli. He smirked at the astounded dwarf.

"It still only counts as one!" Gimli insisted.

The dead army swirled into Minas Tirith and destroyed the orcs within the city. At last all was quiet and the sun began to break up Sauron's clouds and light the Fields of Pelennor. An eagle flew through the gap in the clouds and soared overhead.

Gandalf and Pippin joined Legolas, Gimli, and Falenor as they watched the King of the Dead approach Aragorn.

"Release us," the ghost rasped, looking weary and spent.

"Bad idea," Gimli commented. "Very handy in a tight spot, these lads, despite the fact that they're dead." Falenor cuffed the dwarf's ears.

"Do it," he told Aragorn. "I never want to look on their scummy hides again."

"You gave us your word!" the Dead King insisted.

"I hold your oath fulfilled," Aragorn said with a nod. "Go, be at peace." The ghost king sighed contentedly as he and his army evaporated in the sunlight. When Aragorn turned Gandalf bowed to the new king. Legolas, Gimli, and Pippin followed suit. Falenor did not, for something had caught his eye.

The peredhel pushed past the onlookers and came to stand in front of the roan mare.

"Mae govannen, gwathel nin," (_Well-met, my sister_) he told her. The mare looked at him in surprise.

"_You sense different than your true form," _the blue roan told him. Falenor smiled slightly at he words.

"Man im noenle?" (_How did I sense?_) he asked the mare.

"_Larger than a two-leg," _the blue roan told him. _"As bright and hot as the summer sun. When you breathed into me, I smelt the South wind."_ Falenor leaned forward and exhaled in the mare's nostrils and she breathed in his scent.

"_Well-met, my king," _she replied with a neigh. Falenor looked behind her and saw less than three score of horses with her.

"Manke Braig?" (_Where is Braig?_) he asked, for he could not see the chestnut stallion among the survivors. The blue roan lowered her head and whickered softly.

"_He fell to many foes," _the mare told him. Falenor hung his head sadly and placed a comforting hand on the mare's grey-flecked side.


	46. 46 Minas Tirith

**Minas Tirith**

The survivors surveyed the battlefield and tended to the wounded they found there. Falenor was with them, but his task was much more gruesome. He went among the horses and sat with them as they died. Occasionally the peredhel found a horse, wild or tamed, with a broken leg.

He was crying silently as he held a mare's head in his lap. Falenor had had to kill the horse because the mare's leg was broken. As he sat there he heard Eomer give a yell.

"Eowyn!" the man shouted, running through the dead. Falenor gently laid aside the mare's head and ran after Eomer.

"No!" the man sobbed, holding a limp Eowyn to his chest. Falenor joined him there and tried to comfort the grieving man.

"She's not dead!" the peredhel told Eomer. "She is wounded!" Falenor tried to take Eowyn from Eomer, but the man clutched his sister's body and would not let go.

"Aragorn!" Falenor shouted seeing the ranger nearby. "Help me! She isn't dead!" Aragorn came and helped Falenor pry Eomer's fingers from his sister. They placed Eowyn on a stretcher and carried her to the Houses of Healing.

There Aragorn tended her while Eomer looked on anxiously. The ranger crushed aethelas leaves and treated her arm where she had been wounded by the Witch-King's touch.

Eowyn awakened and smiled to see Eomer there.

"Where is he?" she asked Aragorn.

"Falenor is having his leg tended," Aragorn told her. "He was shot by a stray arrow."

"No," Eowyn shook her head. "There was someone else..." Aragorn could not answer her, for the woman fell asleep once more.

Later that night, Eowyn awoke again. She found that she was wearing a white linen shift and her arm had been bandaged. She arose from her bed and limped to a window that let in soft moonlight. As Eowyn surveyed the courtyard below, she felt eyes watching her. Turning, the woman saw a young man with bright red hair standing at her doorway.

The man was leaning against a pillar for support, but he smiled when Eowyn looked at him. The woman felt a warmth in her body, and she turned away from the man as a flush crept up her neck. Eowyn turned and went back to her bed where she fell asleep.

Faramir watched her and listened to her breathing become deep and steady. Then he turned away and went back to his own room.

Aragorn had called a council in the throne room. Legolas, Gimli, Eomer, and Gandalf were there, and someone had found Falenor and dragged him away from the stables.

"Frodo has passed beyond my sight," Gandalf said worriedly. "The darkness is deepening."

"If Sauron had the Ring we would know it," Aragorn insisted. He had still not set aside his ranger's garb, nor sat in the imposing white throne.

"It's only a matter of time," Gandalf sighed.

"Always optimistic," Falenor smirked.

"He had suffered a defeat, yes," Gandalf told the peredhel. "But behind the walls of Mordor our enemy is regrouping." Gimli had taken up residence on the Steward's Throne, and he sat there now puffing on a pipe.

"Let him stay there," the dwarf said between pulls. "Let him rot! Why should we care?"

"Because ten thousand orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom," Gandalf rebuked Gimli. "I've sent him to his death."

"No. There's still hope for Frodo," Aragorn said quietly. "He needs time, and safe passage across the Plains of Gorgoroth. We can give him that."

"How?" Gimli asked, setting aside his pipe for a moment.

"Draw out Sauron's armies," Aragorn explained. "Empty his lands. Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate."

"We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms," Eomer insisted.

"Not for ourselves," Aragorn agreed, looking at Gandalf. "But we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's Eye fixed upon us. Keep him blind to all else that moves."

"A diversion," Legolas suddenly realized.

"You don't do this very often, do you?" Falenor asked the Elf. Then he turned to Aragorn, his face set. "I won't lead my people to this suicide. I can't ask them to do anymore than they have."

"All our people have suffered," Eomer told the peredhel. The captain of Rohan had not forgiven Falenor for not going to see Eowyn. Aragorn looked at Falenor and sighed.

"Just one last time," he asked. "I only want you to risk them one last time." Falenor met Aragorn's eye and sighed.

"Fine."

"Certainty of death. Small chance of success," Gimli said, refilling his pipe. "What are we waiting for?"

"Sauron will suspect a trap," Gandalf argued. "He will not take the bait."

"Oh, I think he will," Aragorn smiled.


	47. 47 A Flag for the Prince

**A Flag for the Prince**

As they prepared to march out from Minas Tirith, a young woman pushed through the crowd.

"Excuse me!" she yelled, pushing past the people gathered to see the combined armies off. "Excuse me!" The girl finally reached the captains and grabbed the mane of a blue roan mare. Falenor looked down at her as she handed him a red bundle.

"From the Houses of Healing," the girl said. "Glazel the head of our order says that we are with the man who is Anduin's kin." Falenor accepted the package and looked over the crowd. And elderly lady, bent and stooped with her years, looked back at him.

Falenor undid the ribbons around the red cloth and unrolled a flag. It was a red field with four golden hills. A red pony galloped across it, mane and tail flying in the wind. It was an almost exact copy of Calenor's seal.

Falenor held the flag high and it caught the South wind and unfurled alongside the banners of Gondor and Rohan.

"Thank you," the peredhel told the girl. "And thank Glazel. Long has she held a place in my family's heart."

Falenor gripped the flag's pole and turned the blue roan to ride beside Legolas. The Host of the West poured out from Gondor, Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli, Eomer, and Falenor close behind Aragorn who led them. Pippin rode behind Gandalf and Merry behind Eomer. Falenor still rode bare-back.

Eowyn watched the men go from her room in the Houses of Healing. Faramir walked to her side quietly and looked out beside her.

"The city has fallen silent," Eowyn remarked. "There is no warmth left in the sun. It grows cold."

"It's just the damp of the first spring rain," Faramir told her. Eowyn turned and looked at him questioningly. "I do not believe this darkness will endure," he explained. She smiled and took his hand in her own. Eowyn rested her head upon Faramir's shoulder and he laid his head upon hers.

"Who is he?" he asked. "The man whom you watch for?" Eowyn sighed, and turned her face from Falenor.

"He has given his love to another," she said at last. "And he will not rest until he sees his Eledhwen again." Eowyn began to cry silently, and Faramir stroked her hair softly.

The Host of the West came within sight of the Black Gate and halted there, unopposed.

"Where are they?" Pippin asked, looking up at the seemingly deserted gate.

"They're out there," Falenor assured the hobbit. Aragorn looked at the peredhel and spurred Hasufel towards the gate. Eomer with Merry, Gandalf with Pippin, Legolas with Gimli, and Falenor followed him.

They came to stop a few hundred yards from the gate. Aragorn shouted up, addressing the Black Gates.

"Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth!" he called. "Let justice be done upon him!" Slowly the gates creaked open and a single rider, mounted on a black horse, came forth.

"_That is not one of our own," _Falenor's mare told him. The peredhel peered at the horse and saw that it's body was hallow and drained of life. The rider was dressed in full armor and only a grotesque mouth appeared beneath his helmet.

"My master, Sauron the Great, bids you welcome," the messenger snarled. Aragorn curled his lip slightly at the stink coming in waves off the rider. "Is there any in this rout with the authority to treat with me?"

"We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless and accursed," Gandalf told the Mouth of Sauron. "Tell your master this: The armies of Mordor must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return."

"Old Graybeard," the messenger growled. "I have a token I was bidden to show thee." He held up a shirt of Mithril, which the members of the Fellowship recognized at once.

"Frodo!" Pippin gasped. The Mouth of Sauron tossed Gandalf the Mithril shirt, and the Istar caught it.

"Frodo!" Pippin cried again, but Gandalf hushed him.

"Silence."

"No!" Merry cried, peeking out from behind Eomer.

"Silence!" Gandalf insisted.

"The halfling was dear to thee, I see," the Mouth of Sauron sneered. "Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host. Who would've though one so small could endure so much pain? And he did, Gandalf. He did." The messenger laughed cruelly, but Falenor urged his mare forward.

"And who is this?" The Mouth laughed. "Heir of a broken line? Unworthy son of the Kings of Elves and Men! A child that chases legends?" Falenor ignored him, but looked instead at the hallow horse.

"Come out of him," he commanded the demon within the horse. "In the names of Calenor, Uricon, Ilayilia, Glarlauk, Anduin, and Phaethon I tell you to come out of him." With a mighty wail the spirit imprisoned within the horse was banished and fled into the winds.

As the body of the horse collapsed the Mouth of Sauron struggled to catch himself before he fell. Aragorn casually rode up to stand between Falenor and the messenger.

"And who is this? Isildur's heir?" The Mouth asked, struggling to regain his composure. "It takes more to make a king than a broken Elvish blade." With a quick, hard slice Aragorn cut into the Mouth of Sauron's head with Anduril and decapitated him.

"I guess that concluded negotiation," Gimli growled dangerously.

"I do not believe it," Aragorn said, turning to look at the Mithril shirt. "I will not."


	48. 48 The Battle of the Black Gates

**The Battle of the Black Gates**

The Black Gate creaked and once more began to open, revealing a huge army of marching orcs.

"Pull back!" Aragorn ordered his companions. "Pull back!" Barad-dur loomed behind the advancing army, its Eye fixed on Aragorn as he and his company retreated. As they approached the unsettled army Aragorn lifted Anduril and addressed them.

"Hold you ground! Hold your ground," he commanded. "Sons of Gondor! Of Rohan! My brothers! Is see _in your eyes_ the same fear that would take the _heart_ of me." He surveyed the frightened men.

"A day may come when the courage of Men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but _it is not this day_. And hour of wolves and shattered shields when the Age of Men comes crashing down, but _it is not this day_! This day we fight!" he continued passionately. "By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand, Men of the West!"

The soldiers drew their swords as Aragorn turned and faced the army of orcs surrounding them. The orc masses encircled the army of men. Aragorn and his men dismounted and, at a nod from Aragorn, Falenor turned to the horses.

"Gwedir nin! Gwathel nin!" (_My brothers! My sisters!_) he called out. The horses fidgeted slightly and turned towards him. "Edra ammen men, men na guil edwen, haer o auth a nir a naeth." (_We have a chance for another life, away from war... grief... despair._) He paused and looked at the horses. The gap left by the encircling orc army was closing. "Han bad lin. Im u'innas tolle ah im." (_This is my path. I cannot ask you to come with me._)

A few of the horses turned and escaped through the hole in the orc army, but most, including the blue roan and the wild horses, stayed with Falenor.

"_You are a good man, Falenor son of Fanduin," _the mare told him. _"We are proud to fight with our king."_

"Never thought I'd die fighting side by side with an Elf," Gimli said sadly.

"What about side by side with a friend?" Legolas asked, smiling as he looked down on the dwarf.

"Aye, I could do that," Gimli nodded.

"You know, I always thought that the rangers would try to imprison me and the Rohirrim would try to kill me," Falenor said, glancing at Eomer and Aragorn. "I am glad I was wrong." The two men smiled at him, but then Aragorn looked back at Barad-dur. He moved forward, lowering his sword slightly. Then he turned and looked back at Gandalf.

"For Frodo," Aragorn told the Istar quietly, looking at the shirt of Mithril in Gandalf's hand. Then Aragorn held up his sword and charged towards the orcs. Merry and Pippin drew their own blades and ran after him with a shout. The rest of the army followed, but none could outpace the wild horses and the dappled-grey stallion who led them.

Screeches rent the air as the remaining eight Nazgul flew over the fighting. They descended upon the army of men and horses. Gandalf paused as a familiar moth flew past his face. The Istar's face brightened as bird calls cried out overhead.

"Eagles!" Pippin shouted happily. "The Eagles are coming!" The giant birds flew from out of the sun and attacked the Nazgul. The wyverns were locked in combat with the Eagles, but one slipped past and flew down with talons extended. The fell beast had its eyes fixed on the grey stallion: Falenor.

As the wyvern descended, the blue roan screamed a warning to Falenor. The stallion turned and reared, kicking the air and trumpeting a challenge. The Nazgul veered slightly, caught off guard by the horse's offense. The wyvern landed, crushing several orcs beneath its feet.

The dappled stallion charged, head down at the Nazgul. The wyvern screamed in delight as the horse approached. It tried to snap up the stallion, but the horse disappeared in a flash and Falenor ducked under the Nazgul's bite. The peredhel rolled under the wyvern and stabbed upwards with four of his knives.

The Nazgul shrieked and stumbled. Falenor tried to crawl out from under it, but the wyvern's dead body fell upon him.

"_Falenor!" _the horses screamed. They leapt upon the orcs with a new vengeance, their eyes wild and angry. The unfortunate orcs tried to flee from them, but were trampled under the horse's hooves.

Without warning the remaining Nazgul screeched and flew away from the fighting, back towards Mount Doom. Some of the horses gave chase, bugling challenges at the retreating wyverns' backs.

Aragorn turned and saw a huge troll lumbering towards him, wielding a heavy club. Aragorn tried to engage the troll, but he was thrown to the ground. The troll placed a heavy foot on the man and grinned. Legolas saw Aragorn fall and tried to fight his way to him.

Aragorn took out the dagger given to him by Celeborn and stabbed the troll's foot. The creature snarled and pressed down harder.

Suddenly Sauron's troops looked back at Mordor and fled. The troll stumbled after them and Legolas ran to Aragorn and helped him up. The army of men watched as the tower of Barad-dur slowly toppled, the Eye winking out of existence with a scream that turned into a great shockwave.

The army of the West cheered as the ground crumbled beneath the orc's feet and the creatures fell with yelps into an abyss. The Black Gate collapsed as the ground under it caved in.

"Frodo!" Merry cheered. "Frodo!" But just then Mount Doom erupted in a large explosion of fiery lava that poured down its slopes. The Nazgul tried to flee the blast, but heavy rocks fell upon them and knocked the wyverns to the ground.

The victorious army, cheering in triumph moments before, fell to sobs of horror as they watched the molten lava gush from the mountain. Gandalf called three of the Eagles to him and he climbed onto one of their backs.

"I'm going to go see if I can find him," the Istar told Aragorn, who nodded. The Men of the West watched as the Eagles took flight, carrying Gandalf over the crumbling remains of Mordor.

The blue roan mare nudged Legolas persistently.

"What is it?" the Elf asked. The mare neighed urgently, and shook out her long mane. Legolas frowned, he could tell that the horse was speaking but he could not make out the words. The mare nudged Legolas so hard that he tripped and stumbled into Aragorn.

"Man?" (_What is it?_) Aragorn asked the mare. She trotted away, then looked back to make sure they were following. The blue roan led them to where a fallen Nazgul lay. She leant against it and Aragorn understood that she was trying to push the dead wyvern aside.

"Bring rope!" Aragorn ordered. The mare nuzzled the ground beneath the dead beast and gave a worried whinny.

Soldiers brought lengths of rope and tied them around the Nazgul. They began to pull the creature aside, grunting with the effort. Legolas knelt down and tried to peer beneath the wyvern.

"Aragorn!" he shouted. The man knelt next to Legolas and looked where the Elf was pointing. A hand lay under the Nazgul, a golden ring glinting on its finger.

"No," Aragorn whispered, recognizing the ring of Calenor. "It cannot be..." The blue roan mare pushed past them and nuzzled the hand with concern. It did not move, but lay still and pale.


	49. 49 Why is There a Horse in the Room?

**Why is There a Horse in the Room?**

Frodo woke in a soft bed, light streaming across his face. The hobbit sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Someone was sitting at the end of his bed, watching him with concern.

"Gandalf?" Frodo asked shakily. The wizard smiled slightly and Frodo began to laugh with delight. It was the first time the hobbit had seen Gandalf since the Istar fell in Moria. Suddenly the door of his room slammed open and Frodo turned to see Merry and Pippin enter the room. His cousins jumped on his bed and hugged him.

"Frodo!" Merry laughed joyfully, slapping away Pippin's hands as the hobbit tried to tickle Frodo. Gimli entered then with a shout, waving his arms around as he approached Frodo's bed.

"Gimli!" Frodo laughed, smiling at the chuckling dwarf. Legolas came in, looking very serene and smiling slightly. Another man, dressed in the rich red of the King, followed the Elf-prince in.

"Aragorn!" Frodo called. The man smiled and came to stand next to Legolas and Gimli at Frodo's bed. The hobbit looked around, realizing someone was missing.

"And Falenor?" he asked. Everyone's face fell slightly and they avoided Frodo's questioning look. A snort came from outside and a horse poked its head around the corner. Frodo stared; he had never seen a blue horse before. The mare seemed to laugh at him as she walked into the room. Hanging on her neck and walking unsteadily came Falenor.

The peredhel smiled at Frodo, limping heavily. The hobbit could see a cast on Falenor's left leg, and the drover leaned heavily on the mare. The horse deposited Falenor on Frodo's bed and the peredhel reached out a hand to ruffle the hobbit's hair.

"Hello, little foal," Falenor laughed. Sam entered last, staring at the horse in the room. Frodo caught the gardener's eyes and gave him a knowing smile, which Sam returned.

"Get that horse out of here!" A woman's voice called. "If I've told you once I've told you a thousand times, Prince Falenor..." A young woman entered the room. When she saw the men, hobbits, wizard, dwarf, and elf standing there she backed out quickly.

"Why _is_ there a horse in the room?" Frodo asked in the awkward silence.

"That is a long story," Aragorn laughed.


	50. 50 The Grief of Falenor

**The Grief of Falenor**

Falenor watched as Gandalf placed the crown on top of Aragorn's dark hair.

"Now come the days of the king," the wizard announced. "May they be blessed." Aragorn stood and turned to address the crowd.

"This day does not belong to one man but to all," Aragorn said, his voice carrying over the huge numbers of people squeezed into the courtyard. "Let us together rebuild this world... that we may share in the days of peace." As everyone applauded, Falenor cast a sidelong glance at Eowyn.

She was wearing a simple golden circlet around his honey colored hair and she was smiling at the man beside her. Eowyn only had eyes for the dashing young Faramir now, but Falenor didn't mind too much.

"_Let Gondor and Rohan have their peace_," he thought. "_And I will return to the North and be among my family._"

Aragorn had begun to sing softly and a hush fell on the crowd as they listened.

"Et Earello Endorenna utulien. (_Out of the Great Sea to Middle-Earth I am come_

Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar _In this place will I abide, and my heirs_

tenn' Ambar-metta." _Unto the ending of the world._)

The king began to walk down the stairs. He was greeted by Faramir and Eowyn and then Eomer, the new king of Rohan. When Aragorn turned to look at Falenor, the peredhel did not bow, but from the look on Aragorn's face the king had not expected him to.

Aragorn turned and went to meet Legolas, who stood with a group of Elves. The king placed a hand on Legolas's shoulder and the Elf-prince put a hand on Aragorn's.

"Hanno le," (_Thank you_) Aragorn told Legolas, who smiled and looked to someone who stood behind him. The Elf-prince stepped aside and revealed Elrond. Falenor frowned, if Elrond had brought his house, who was guarding the Rhaw Nur?

Elrond placed a hand on a flag bearer's shoulder and the woman shifted the flag to reveal herself. It was Arwen, radiant in the beauty of her own light. The Elf maiden approached Aragorn slowly and the king took the banner from her. Aragorn placed a hand under Arwen's chin and looked at her.

"Oh just kiss her!" Falenor shouted. The crowd laughed and Aragorn seized Arwen and kissed her passionately.

"_Always so tactful," _the blue roan told him. She had been allowed to come to the coronation because Falenor could not walk anywhere without the mare's support.

The king turned and, with Arwen on his arm, came to the four hobbits. They bowed to him awkwardly.

"My friends!" Aragorn stopped them with a kind smile. "You bow to _no one_." With that Aragorn bowed deeply to the hobbits. Arwen followed him and soon everyone in the courtyard was on a knee to the little ones. Even Falenor, putting aside his pride, lowered himself into a deep bow, grabbing a handful of the roan's mane to keep himself from falling over.

That night, when the feast had begun and all were making merry, Falenor found Elrond. The Elf lord stood a little distance away from the drinking and reveling men, looking slightly overwhelmed and a little disgusted.

"Emel'hawn!" (_Mother's brother!_) the peredhel called, limping through the crowd. The woman at the Houses of Healing had given him a cane and insisted he leave the mare in the stables for the night. Elrond turned a gave Falenor a troubled smile.

"Thel-ion," (_Sister-son_) he greeted the peredhel.

"How are the mares?" Falenor asked hopefully. "Have they given birth yet?" Elrond looked uncomfortable and made a gesture, sending the Elves standing with him away.

"Falenor," Elrond began slowly. "When I returned I learned dire news. The goblins had come from their mountains and... they slew the guards I placed over your herd. We recovered some of the bodies but the others..."

"Eledhwen?" Falenor asked, his heart sinking slightly. Elrond hesitated a moment before answering.

"She was one we did recover," he said at last. Elrond placed a hand on Falenor's shoulder but the young man shook it off.

"Dead?" he asked. Elrond nodded, his grey eyes sorrowful. Without warning Falenor turned and pushed his way through the press of bodies.

"Out of my way!" he snarled. "Move!"

"Falenor?" Eomer asked, moving to intercept him. The peredhel drew a long knife and threatened the king with it.

"If anyone tries to stop me I will cut their throats!" Falenor snapped. He dropped his cane and half-ran, half-limped from the hall. Elrond caught Aragorn's eye and shook his head slightly.

Falenor took the blue roan from the stable and fled Minas Tirith. The guards did not try to stop him, but opened the gates and allowed the peredhel to pass through. Aragorn and Arwen stood on the battlements and watched Falenor disappear into the night.

Falenor rode day and night, pushing the mare to her limit and beyond until at last he came to the forest surrounding Rivendell. He had not eaten a proper meal in weeks and his hair had grown long and untamed. Falenor's leg had not set properly and he continued to limp heavily.

The peredhel walked through the forests, whistling and calling for the Rhaw Nur, but no answering call came. Falenor left the lowlands then, and came up into the peaks of the Misty Mountains. Starved and half-crazed he stood on the edge of a cliff, a knife in one hand. He had bared his chest and stood there, tears falling down his face.

"Don't," a voice told him, but he ignored it, thinking it to be the wind. "Why are you doing this?" the voice asked.

"Because there is nothing left for me," Falenor told it, closing his eyes and readying the knife.

"I thought that once," the voice told him. "When my wings were broken. And again, when a hunter broke his promise to me." Falenor opened his eyes and lowered the knife, turning to find the source of the voice. An eagle, not one of the large ones that made their eyries in the mountains but a small golden one, looked back at him with keen golden eyes.

"Who are you?" he asked it. The eagle cocked its head and flew a little closer.

"I am called Fangwyr," the eagle told him.

"You are a legend," Falenor said shakily. "And I am imagining you." Falenor lifted his knife again, but the eagle watched him closely.

"_You_ are a legend," the eagle told him. "Your fathers were a legend. At least they met their deaths bravely."

"How do you know my fathers?" Falenor asked, irritated.

"Calenor died from grief, Anduin from a goblin's blade," Fangwyr listed. "Ilayilia disappeared into the kingdom of the Wild-Elves. I know your family. I have watched them for many years."

"Then you know that without the Rhaw Nur we are nothing!" Falenor yelled. "We have lived through the years _only_ to serve them!"

"Perhaps they lived through the years only to serve you," Fangwyr suggested, flying and landing on Falenor's shoulder. The eagle looked down the cliff. "It's a long way down," he commented.

"Not long enough," Falenor sighed, but he sat down and lowered the eagle to his lap. "And what would you suggest I do?"

"Adapt," Fangwyr told him. "I have flown far and wide. Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn are leaving the Golden Wood. They are going to cross the Sea."

"I suppose you want me to go with them." The eagle shrugged and cocked its head.

"Go, do not go," it told him. "Manwe holds us all. But while the wind blows you must learn to soar with it."

"I cannot fly," Falenor sighed.

"Then why did you try to throw yourself off a cliff?" Fangwyr scolded, pecking Falenor's hands. "The North ponies are dead. The Elves are leaving. You only have one family left. I do not say to make a nest and have chicks, but perhaps you should learn to spread your wings before you try and fly."

"I cannot fly," Falenor repeated, earning another sharp peck. Fangwyr turned and flew away, circling the ledge where Falenor stood once then again.

"They are waiting for you!" the eagle called down.

"Who are?" But Fangwyr's wings were filled with a breeze and the eagle wheeled away.


	51. 51 The Grey Havens

A/N: The songs is based off of "Farewell to Tarwathie" by Judy Collins

**The Grey Havens**

"Tell me again, lad, where are we going?" Bilbo wheezed. Frodo sat with his uncle in the wagon, Gandalf at the front clucking Ferling the pony on. Merry, Pippin, and Sam rode ahead of the wagon on their own ponies. Frodo was painfully reminded of Falenor, who had disappeared from Minas Tirith and vanished from any news.

"To the harbor, Uncle," Frodo told Bilbo once again. "The Elves have accorded you a special honor. A place on the last ship to leave Middle-Earth."

"Frodo, any chance of seeing that old Ring of mine again?" Bilbo asked. "Hmm? The one I gave you?" Frodo paused and thought back over that heirloom.

"I'm sorry, Uncle... I'm afraid I lost it."

"Oh, pity. I should like to have held it, one last time." Bilbo leaned against Frodo and fell asleep, leaving the younger hobbit to his own thoughts.

When they arrived at the Grey Havens, Galadriel, Celeborn, and Elrond were waiting next to a docked ship.

"Oh! Here is a sight that I have never seen before!" Bilbo exclaimed.

"The power of the three rings is ended," Galadriel said softly. Of all who had known Falenor, she had taken his disappearance the hardest. "The time has come for the Dominion of Men."

"I Aear can ven na mar," (_The Sea calls us home_) Elrond said softly, opening his arms. Bilbo smiled and walked forward with a new spring in his step.

"I think I'm quite ready for another adventure!" he said. Elrond helped the aged hobbit onto the ship. Galadriel smiled at Frodo then turned to board.

"Wait!" A voice yelled. Everyone turned and to see Falenor ride up on the blue roan mare. He dismounted, ignoring their cries of welcome and inquiry and went straight to his grandmother.

"I am sorry I frightened you," he said, taking both her hands and bowing over them. An eagle landed on the ship's deck and watched the meeting curiously.

"I could not See you," Galadriel told Falenor softly. "Though I looked long and hard. Many asked about you: Aragorn and Arwen, Eomer and Eowyn, Legolas and Gimli, and those gathered here." The eagle gave a soft call and Falenor glared at it.

"Yes, all right, you don't need to say it!" he reprimanded it. "I know you told me so!" Galadriel smiled at the eagle, who came and perched on her shoulder.

"Are you coming with us?" Galadriel asked Falenor. The man shook his head and looked over the Sea almost longingly.

"My place is here," Falenor told her. He fingered the brooch of Anduin. "My people need me still." Galadriel smiled and kissed the peredhel prince upon the head before she turned and boarded the ship, the eagle still on her shoulder.

Gandalf turned and smiled down at the hobbits, leaning on his staff.

"Farewell... my brave hobbits," he told them. "My work is now finished. Here at last, on the shores of the sea, comes the end of our Fellowship." Merry, Pippin, and Sam began to cry. "I will not say, do not weep, for not all tears are an evil," Gandalf told them kindly.

The Istar turned and made his way towards the ship, but stopped and turned around.

"It is time, Frodo," the wizard said softly. The hobbits and Falenor gave Frodo a confused look.

"What does he mean?" Sam demanded.

"We set out to save the Shire, Sam," Frodo sighed. "And it has been saved. But not for me."

"You don't mean that!" Sam insisted. "You can't leave!" Frodo produced a book, bound in red leather, to give to Sam.

"The last pages are for you, Sam." Frodo turned and embraced each of the hobbits in turn. Merry and Pippin were sobbing and clutched Frodo to them. He turned at last and kissed Sam on the forehead before going to Gandalf.

Falenor lifted Frodo in his arms and embraced him tightly. He even bowed to Gandalf as the wizard passed and boarded the ship.

Frodo turned on the deck of the ship and gave his friends a last smile. He finally appeared to be at peace. The ship sailed away, bearing the last of the Elves to Valinor. As the ship left the harbor, Falenor began to sing one last time.

"Farewell to Nargothornd, goodbye Doriath

And to you, fair Gondolin, I bid fond farewell.

I'm bound off for Valinor and ready to sail

In hopes to find blessings at the hand of Manwe.

Farewell to my comrades, for a while we must part

And likewise the dear lass who first won my heart.

The cold northern coastland my love will not chill

And the longer my absence, the more loving she'll feel.

Our ship is well rigged and she's ready to sail

The crew they are anxious to leave the coastland

Where the icebergs do fall and the stormy winds blow

Where the land on the ocean is covered with snow.

The cold northern coastland is barren and bare

No seed-time nor harvest is ever known there

And the birds here sing sweetly in mountains and dell

But there's no bird on the coastland to sing to the Elves

There is no habitation for a Man to live there

And the queen of that country is Varda the fair.

And there'll be no temptation to tarry long here

You must weave your own sails, and come to me there."


	52. 52 Epilogue

**The Epilogue**

What passed following that is merely legend and rumor, for I the narrator was not there to witness it.

It is said that Falenor joined the rangers and had his revenge upon the goblins. Throughout all the northlands he became known as the Yrch Amarth, which means Goblin's Doom in the Sindarin tongue.

But in the South and in Gondor, Rohan, and the Shire, he was called Falenor the Wild, the tamer of horses. For though Falenor once again forsook the Ring of Calenor in Rivendell, he was ever dear to the horses and ponies of the land.

In the halls of Imladris the Elven artists had crafted three last works before they departed to go beyond the Sea. There was a marble statue of Eledhwen and it was placed at the head of Anduin's tomb and an inscription was placed beneath it:

ELEDHWEN

THE BELOVED

And there also was a horse crafted of silver, and it was in the likeness of another pony:

URICON

THE MERKA FEA

Which means Uricon, the untamed spirit. The Elves also crafted a dragon made of iron and placed this at Anduin's feet, next to the statue of Phaethon:

GLARLAUK THE AMLUG

THE MASTER OF MAGIC

Which means Glarlauk the Black. And Falenor ventured to all the lands he had ever entered and asked pardon from those who had known and loved him, for he had left them abruptly and without explanation. But when he had reached his bloom in the thirtieth year of his life he passed on from Middle-Earth and died.

No one can tell where the spirit of Falenor went, whether to Valinor or the Halls of Mandos. I like to believe that he resides in the Fields of Orome, where horses are rumored to go upon death.

_At the end of the fourth age of Middle Earth the worlds fell into chaos and destruction. And in that time four riders came forth and rode upon the ponies of the wind._

_Ilayilia the Healer rode upon the gentle East wind, who took the form of a green mare with long willow branches for hair. _

_Anduin the Valiant was mounted upon the wild wind of the North. She seemed as a fierce mare, pure white, and she brought with her snow and ice._

_Falenor the Wild rode the untamed South wind, a stallion that blazed with heat and light. Where they rode wildfires and deserts sprang up._

_Calenor the Great came upon the stallion of the West wind, who was as purple as the thunderheads that accompanied him._

_And in their wake the world was consumed with ice and fire and was purged from all the blemishes of Morgoth and Sauron. Where the four riders met a paradise sprang up and there the Valar came to live. And the riders dwelt among them and with the Elves and souls of the departed men. _

I attest that all I have told is the truth

May my pinions be cut if I lied

I, Fangwyr the Watcher, so swear.

So, fair readers, we come to the end of another story. I still have _In the Dragon's Claws_, the story of Ilayilia the sister of Anduin and great-grandmother of Falenor. I won't post it unless I have at least one person request me to, in which case I will happily oblige. Thank you for reading this far!

Love, Elmethea.


End file.
